


Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire Abridged

by kierandell1409



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abridged, Parody
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2019-10-21 03:55:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 29,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17635541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kierandell1409/pseuds/kierandell1409
Summary: The abridged parody of the fourth Harry Potter book is finally here.





	1. The Enigma Residence

**Author's Note:**

> Guess what’s back? Go on, guess. Sorry this took so long, last month was really hectic at work, so starting a new project, especially one that I want to come out really good, didn’t seem like a good idea. But, things seem to be settling down now, so it’s time to enjoy the thing you guys keep wanting me to write. And the best part? This has thirty seven chapters, so it’ll be a while before you’re without it again, so let’s get to it, shall we?

Radio reporter: Hello, and welcome to tonight’s Expositional News. I’m your host, Kenny Explainitall. Tonight we’re commemorating the fiftieth anniversary of the mysterious deaths at the Riddle House in Little Hangleton, which is what my wife keeps calling my dick. As you know, our story begins when the maid of the house found the occupants dead in the sitting room. The victims were found with terrified looks on their face, so it was assumed they took shrooms and watched the Pink Elephants bit from Dumbo. Then they remembered that no-one owns a television yet, since it’s 1944. Anyway, the next most obvious move was to arrest the Riddle’s gardener Frank Bryce, since he was a cranky enough asshole with PTSD that maybe he did it. However, when it was found that there was no sign of any kind of foul play, the police were forced to release a suspected lunatic back into society. I know it’s not my place to judge people, but it seems clear to me that the man’s a complete psychopa… *click*  
Frank: Fuck that show. It’s always explaining shit rather than… *looks out the window of his cottage at the Riddle House, and sees a glowing red light inside it* Oh, those fucking teenagers. They’ve lit the place on fire. Guess I can justify old Betsy this time *grabs a nearby shotgun and heads into the house*

*outside the drawing room*  
Frank: What the hell? They’ve lit it in the grate. But why would they… *Frank shuts up as he hears voices in the room*  
???: Would you like some more milk, master?  
???: For God’s sake Wormtail, stop treating me like a baby. I am the most powerful wizard of all time, The Dark Lord Volde… *coughing fit*  
Wormtail: Here you go master.  
???: Get that shit away from me. And where is Nagini?  
Wormtail: Probably enjoying her freedom. You know she was captive of that disgusting muggle zoo for quite a long time before you came back.  
???: I wish you wouldn’t let my horcrux out of your sight.  
Wormtail: What a weird word for pet.  
???: How did she get out of the zoo, by the way?  
Wormtail: The boy, Harry Potter, accidentally removed the glass.  
???: Ah, yes, Harry Potter. The boy who left me looking like this. It will be a shame to have to murder him.  
Wormtail: My Lord, maybe we shouldn’t be talking about murder so openly.  
???: Wormtail, we are in a rundown house in the middle of Buttfuck, Nowhere. Where the hell can we talk openly about murder if not here? Like when I murdered my prick of a muggle father and his parents in the very room fifty years ago.  
Frank: What the…? HE did it? I’ve been thought of as a murderer for fifty years for this psychopath’s sake?  
???: But for now, we need to prepare to Munich up the Quidditch World Cup.  
Wormtail: But do we really need to kidnap the boy for your plan? We could use literally anyone for…  
???: Like who? That Bertha Jonkins I murdered? Please Wormtail, she was so broken after I was done with her that she would have been useless. Plus, she was so forgetful, she couldn’t remember that she had fingernails. Though she did help us find…him, so that was good.  
Wormtail: Still, My Lord, don’t you think…  
???: Hush Wormtail, I think I can hear Nagini coming.  
Frank: What is he talking about? There’s no-one else here except that big-ass snaHOLY SHIT!  
???: Wormtail? What was that?  
Wormtail: I told you talking about murder was a bad idea. Someone’s overheard us.  
???: Well, Wormtail? Invite our guest in.  
*Wormtail opens the door*  
Frank: No, sir. I must be going…  
Wormtail: *dragging Frank into the room* No, please. Be our guest, be our guest, put our service to the test…  
???: Wormtail, I swear to God, if you tie a napkin around his neck, I’ll do to you what I’m about to do to him.  
Wormtail: *carefully unties a napkin from Frank’s neck* And what’s that exactly?  
Voldemort: *turns his chair around to face the two of them* AVADA KEDAVRA! *Frank falls over dead*

*Meanwhile, 200 miles away*  
Harry: *bolts upright, wide awake* What the fuck? He wasn’t even sitting in a swivel chair.


	2. The Cut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's scar's hurting, so he decides to cry to Sirius.

Harry: Seriously, what the fuck was that? That was Wormtail, and I’m guessing the foetus looking motherfucker was Voldemort, but who was the old guy? He has no connection to me whatsoever, so why did I possess him?  
Vernon: BOY! Stop monologuing. It’s four in the freaking morning.  
Harry: Sorry Uncle Vernon. I just need to write a quick letter to my serial killer godfather and I’ll go back to bed.  
Vernon: Oh…remember to tell him how well we’re taking care of you, will you? *goes back to bed*  
Harry: Actually, writing to Sirius might not be a bad idea. My head is killing me. When was the last time my scar hurt? Was it when I accidentally got Quirrell stoned? Or was it when I killed a minor eldritch abomination that was hiding beneath the school? Well, whatever, I need to tell him.

*Harry grabs out a quill, ink, and some parchment*  
Harry: “Dear Sirius, how are you doing? I’m doing fine, especially since the Dursleys still believe you’re a psycho killer. I hope you don’t mind that I haven’t told them that you’re actually innocent. I just feel like it’s something a trouble maker like you would appreciate. Anyway, the main reason for my letter is to mention my scar is hurting again, which hasn’t happened since I was last in contact with something Voldemort related. Do you know anything about this that might be helpful? I’d have asked someone else, but Hermione’s still clinging to the belief that everything is science, Dumbledore’s an idiot, and Ron’s…well, Ron. Please write back soon. From, Harry.”  
Harry: “P.S. You’re gonna have to tell me how the hell you managed to get to the Bahamas when you look like a dirty hobo. And don’t tell me you swam there as a dog, because I still hardly believe you got away from Azkaban like that.” Yeah, that ought to do it. Now, to actually write all that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry for the EXTREMELY short chapter, but in the actual book this chapter was 90% recap of the previous books, so there wasn’t much to really work with. Plus, I have a finale to write, so I wanted to do something to get my mind off it for a couple of days before I work on it. Speaking of which, because of the anticipated length of the finale to Total Drama, the next chapter of this won’t be for a couple of weeks (at best). Hopefully early next month I’ll be able to continue this fairly regularly. Until then guys…


	3. The Proposition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Weasley's offer to take Harry away for the summer. Vernon might need a moment to think about it.

*in the kitchen the following morning*  
Dudley: MUM! I want my Frosted Coco Flakes.  
Petunia: Sorry Dudders, but that bitch nurse said you were getting too big.  
Dudley: I AM NOT TOO BIG!  
Harry: *just arriving* Yeah, according to Gabriel Iglesias, you’re only at DAMN! You can still get to AWW HELL NO!  
Dudley: MUM! He’s pretending I’m fat again.  
Harry: I’ve seen you eat an entire calf. I couldn’t make shit like that up if I wanted to.  
Petunia: Harry, you know he needs his protein.  
Harry: There is a HUGE difference between getting protein, and eating a small cow. Speaking of huge…  
Vernon: *walking into the room* ARE YOU MOCKING MY BOY FOR BEING FAT AGAIN?!  
Dudley: He is daddy.  
Harry: Just pointing out that being at risk of heart failure before adulthood is not a good life goal.  
Vernon: Right, I only understood about six of those words…  
Harry: Congratulations, you’re slowly learning.  
Vernon: …but you called my son fat. And I’m bigger than him, so that would mean I’m fat. Do you think I’m fat, boy?  
Harry: People are sick of you blocking Route 12.  
Vernon: Watch it boy, or I’ll…  
Harry: …have to explain to my serial killer godfather why I suddenly stopped writing?

Vernon: *continues glaring at Harry* Honey, what’s for breakfast?  
Petunia: Grapefruit *puts a plate in front of each person*  
Vernon: Oh, I, uh…think I hear the postman coming *leaves the table*  
Harry: Hey Dudley, I reckon you can’t eat the entire grapefruit by yourself.  
Dudley: Bullshit I can’t *starts eating Vernon’s portion*  
Vernon: HARRY! Get in here.  
Harry: And get out of this shitty breakfast? Okay.  
Petunia: HEY! You get back here and eat your shitty breakfast, then let your uncle beat you half to… *realises what she was saying* I mean, yes, go see what your uncle wants *turns to face her breakfast, only to see it’s gone* What the…  
Dudley: *eating Petunia’s piece of grapefruit* What was I supposed to do? Harry challenged me.  
Petunia: Yes, but you don’t need to also eat the silverware.  
Dudley: Where else am I supposed to get my iron?  
Petunia: Just stop eating the table, Duddums.  
Dudley: But that’s my recommended daily sodium intake *Petunia just tries to ignore how stupid this is*

*meanwhile, in the living room*  
Vernon: So, boy.  
Harry: Yeah, yeah, I know. I did something wrong. I’m not sure what, but I did it. Just blame me for it so I can threaten you with a Sirius letter so we can all move on with our day.  
Vernon: It wasn’t you this time.  
Harry: Oh, so whatever it was is Dudley’s fault, but I’m getting the blame for…  
Vernon: MY SON HAS NEVER DONE ANYTHING WRONG!  
Harry: Tell that to the elderly man looking for his puppet son that he swallowed.  
Vernon: *glares at him, then pulls out a letter* You see this?  
Harry: Yes.  
Vernon: Do you know what it is?  
Harry: Wow, don’t tell me you’ve reverted back to kindergarten level of intelligence.  
Vernon: IT’S A LETTER! From one of your freak friends.  
Harry: They’re called wizards.  
Vernon: Look kid, you’ve already taken away my right to discipline you…  
Harry: Funny word for child abuse, but whatever.  
Vernon: …please don’t take away my right the insult your people.  
Harry: Really? After thirteen years of neglect, I finally have a way to get my own back, and you expect me not to use it?  
Vernon: There’s a good lad. Now, about the letter, it’s from a ‘Molly Weasel’.  
Harry: Weasley.  
Vernon: WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?!  
Harry: Hey, I can always go back to checking how strong your orbit is.  
Vernon: *glares at him again* Anyway, she says she wants to take you away from us for the rest of the summer, and take you to see something called a Quidditch World Cup...  
Harry: Great, seeya.

Vernon: WAIT A DAMN MINUTE! While this is a tempting offer, this also makes me think you’ll have fun, which goes against my basic instincts…  
Harry: Please do not re-enact that scene when saying that.  
Vernon: *placing his right leg over his left leg after having them open wide* So I’m inclined to say no to this offer, on account of…  
Harry: It’s okay, I didn’t want to go hang around with other wizards and go to a once in a lifetime sporting event.  
Vernon: *immediately suspicious* You’re trying to do that reverse psychology bullshit, aren’t you?  
Harry: What? On you? No, you’re way too smart to fall for that.  
Vernon: Why thank y…wait a minute… *Vernon freezes, clearly thinking*  
Harry: Umm…Uncle Vernon? *waves a hand in front of his face*  
Vernon: I’m thinking *still frozen* If I let you go, you’ll be with your own kind and have fun. But that’s the very thing I want to avoid. But if I do that, you’ll tell that serial rapist…  
Harry: Serial killer.  
Vernon: …godfather of yours, which will be bad for us…hmm…  
Harry: Can I just go already? We both know I need to in order for the plot to progress.  
Vernon: I’m still thinking.

Harry: Whatever *heads upstairs to his room, where he’s immediately confronted by a strange bird* What the hell? *sees what it is* Oh, it’s Ron’s owl *takes letter from it* “Dear Harry, Dad got tickets for the World Cup. Then he found out he accidentally got tickets to the Muggle World Cup that ended a month ago, so he transfigured them into Quidditch tickets. Whether those are real seats that aren’t already occupied remains to be seen. Anyway, we’re going to kidnap you tomorrow, so be prepared for that.” Why am I not surprised? “Well, see you tomorrow. Oh, and if you write to Sirius, tell him he can either get me a new rat, or I’m keeping his bird, so stop sending me anthrax through the mail.” HA! No. *starts packing his things, including a secret stash of junk food under a loose floorboard*  
Dudley: I JUST HEARD CAKE!  
Harry: Uh…the cake truck just went past. Can’t you hear the music?  
Dudley: HERE I COME CAKE! *loud crash as he runs through a wall after it*  
Cake Truck Driver: OH NO, it’s him again.  
Dudley: GIMME! *swallows truck in one gulp*  
Harry: I never knew his mouth could unhinge like a snake. Well, seeya.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, just wanted to let you know I appeared in an Abridged series on YouTube…as a background extra on my brother’s channel. If you feel like checking it out, it’s IAmPzykosiz’s Accelerated MINT, Episode 4. Or not, I don’t give a shit.


	4. Return to The Rabbit Hole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Weasleys come to collect Harry from the Dursleys.

Harry: Alright, my trunk’s packed, Hedwig knows to meet me at The Burrow, and I’m getting out of this shithole for the rest of summer. Unfortunately, it means I have to be with Ron for a few weeks, but better that than being here.  
Dudley: You better send me candy while you’re gone.  
Harry: Now why the fuck would I do that?  
Dudley: MUM! Harry won’t send me candy.  
Petunia: Harry, send your cousin candy while you’re gone.  
Harry: And break the diet that we’ve all definitely been following?  
Petunia: Don’t make it sound like I was contradicting myself. I’ll tell your uncle.  
Harry: I’m not sure that will do anything *points to Vernon, still frozen in place, thinking*  
Petunia: And as soon as he snaps out of it, you’ll be in deep sh… *loud bang from the fireplace* …Harry, what the fuck was that?  
Harry: If I had to guess, I’d say that the Weasleys are here using the Floo Network, but since our fireplace is blocked up…

Arthur: What the hell? There should be a fireplace here *another loud bang*  
Ron: What if they don’t have a fireplace, and now we’re stuck in purgatory? *another loud bang*  
Fred: Not likely, Floo Powder works using the same magic Santa used to use.  
Ron: What do you mean “used to”?  
Arthur: Yeah, what he said *another loud bang*  
George: Fred, we agreed not to tell them yet.  
Ron: Tell us what?  
Fred: Nothing…actually, should I tell them about the pipe bomb we planted in here for the purposes of escaping a sealed off fireplace?  
George: We should.  
Arthur: When did you…  
George: We’re us, what did you… *explosion, blowing the fireplace covering off the wall and destroying half the living room*

Petunia: WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO MY LIVING ROOM?!  
Harry: Hey guys, what’s up?  
Petunia: Harry, don’t act like this is a casual act of vandalism.  
Harry: The house is still standing. For Fred and George, that IS casual.  
Fred: Hey Harry, where’s your stuff?  
Harry: Upstairs in my room.  
George: The one you were imprisoned in? I remember where that is from when we rescued…  
Petunia: Kidnapped.  
George: …you a couple of years back *leaves to get Harry’s stuff*  
Fred: So Harry, who’s the fat kid pretending he can hide behind his mother? Is that your cousin?  
Harry: It is. And before you ask, I don’t officially condone whatever you’re planning to do, but I sure as hell am not going to stop it.  
Fred: What makes you think I’m planning anything? *sees Harry just staring at him* …good point.  
Petunia: I swear to God if you hurt my little Dudders…  
Fred: Hmm… *sees George enter the room with Harry’s stuff* Okay, I won’t hurt your precious child.

George: *accidentally dropping some toffees* Oops, how clumsy of me. Well, they’ve been on the floor now, I guess they’re no good.  
Dudley: GIMME! *sucks up the toffees on the floor like a vacuum cleaner*  
Arthur: Well, we’ve got Harry, guess we better be going…  
Petunia: Wait a damn minute, my husband still hasn’t said yes to this *points to Vernon, still frozen and thinking*  
Arthur: Sorry, but I’m afraid we must be off. You see, my wife doesn’t know we’re doing this…  
Ron: Dad, she’s the one who suggested it.  
Arthur: She already knows? Shit, everyone, back in the fireplace, quick.  
Ron: Off I go *gets into fireplace, vanishes in puff of green smoke*  
George: See you at The Burrow, Harry *carries Harry’s stuff into the fireplace*  
Harry: Guess I better be… *sees Dudley choking on the floor* Ah, there’s what you did.  
Petunia: YOU SAID YOU WOULDN’T HURT MY BABY!  
Fred: Indeed I did. George, on the other hand, made no such promise *gets into fireplace*  
Harry: I love their loopholes.  
Arthur: This looks bad. Well, gotta go *apparates out of there*  
Harry: Like he said, later bitches *gets into fireplace and disappears*  
Vernon: *suddenly waking up from his extended thinking period* Okay, I’ve come to the decision that… *sees destroyed room and Dudley choking* WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?!


	5. The Twins’ Warlock Gasps

Harry: *crashing to the floor in the Weasley’s kitchen* Wait, did Kieran just kill off Dudley?  
Ron: Don’t worry, I’m sure it will be comically handwaved by the time we get to the next one.  
Harry: Ron, why didn’t you move off the floor before I got… *feels something* Oh, that why.  
Arthur: Now remember boys, we don’t tell your mother about that.  
Molly: Tell me what, exactly?  
Arthur: SHE KNOWS! RUN BOYS! *dives out a nearby window*  
Molly: *turning to face Fred and George* What did you do this time?  
Fred: Why do you assume it was us? *Molly just stares at him* Okay, that’s a good point.  
George: Look, he only ate ONE toffee…I think. For his sake I hope he did.  
Harry: What was the deal with those anyway? Did you, like, charm them or something?  
Fred: Nope, they’re our own design.  
George: Introducing Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, coming soon to a school near you.  
Ron: They’re hoping to make money off it.  
Harry: How’s that going for you?  
Fred: Not bad, but it would help if we had a small loan of one million galleons to help fund our research.  
Arthur: *coming back into the kitchen* Okay, let me go get my chequebook.  
Molly: Arthur, you will do no such thing.  
Arthur: HOLY CRAP SHE’S STILL HERE! *runs to the living room and dives out the window*  
Molly: Boys, what have I told you about this?  
George: That going into business is a very dangerous risk, especially when we have no idea how it works?  
Molly: No, I told you not to.  
Fred: Come on mum, Ever since Gambol and Japes mysteriously burned down a couple of years back…  
Harry: You charmed the fireworks into having a battle royale.  
George: The joke industry has been dying. We could be the ones to bring it back.  
Molly: So your ambition in life is to run a joke shop?  
Fred: See, now she gets it.  
Molly: You’re clearly got some talent with charms. Why not aim a little higher?  
George: You’re right, we need to franchise this shit. First Diagon Alley, then Hogsmeade…  
Molly: THAT’S NOT WHAT I…  
Fred: Thanks for believing in us mum *leaves with George*

Molly: I swear, those boys…  
???: *entering with another unknown person* I wouldn’t worry about it mum. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?  
???: They turn out like you, you bloody dragon molester.  
Harry: From the red hair, I take it you guys are Bill and Charlie?  
Bill: I’d like to make it very clear, I’m Bill. Don’t want you to think I’m the one who fucks dragons for a living.  
Molly: BILL! How many times do I have to tell you? Charlie STUDIES dragons.  
Bill: By seeing how they react to his penis.  
Charlie: He’s not wrong.  
Molly: For God’s sake Charlie, I want to believe that’s not true. Please let me believe it isn’t. The twins have already brought enough shame on the family.  
Charlie: Just accept that I’m a Scalie mum. It’s completely normal.  
Molly: Don’t worry dear, it’s just a phase. You’ll grow out of it.  
Harry: Pretty sure it’s actually a mental sickness.  
Hermione: *coming down the stairs* Hi Harry.  
Harry: And you’re here too apparently. How many tickets did your dad get anyway?  
Ron: Ten. Mum’s going to pick up our school stuff tomorrow instead.  
Molly: Well, someone’s got to. Plus, I’m about 90% sure Arthur’s going to get you all arrested for having fake tickets, so I figure one of us has to stay home to bail the rest of you out.  
Arthur: Don’t worry dear, I have a plan for that.  
Molly: Is it even more illegal than the forged tickets?  
Arthur: Err… *runs upstairs and dives out one of the windows*  
Molly: Sooner or later he’ll run out of windows.  
Ron: Come on Harry, I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping.  
Harry: I already have a pretty good idea.

*on their way upstairs*  
Ginny: *thoughts* Harry’s here. I need to act natural, so that maybe I can convince him to allow me to conceive the first of my spawn *out loud* Hey Harry, you hear about that thing in Christchurch? What I really like about that guy is…  
Harry: NO! Not another word out of you. I refuse to let you get this account banned.  
Ginny: …I was going to say that he’s in jail *thoughts* Damn it, knew I should have gone with Cardinal Pell.  
Harry: Oh…maybe you’re not as evil as I thought *leaves with Ron*  
Ginny: Well, it’s progress.

*in Ron’s room*  
Ron: So, have you heard from Sirius?  
Harry: Yeah, he wants his owl back.  
Ron: Yeah, still not gonna happen. Unless he gets me my rat back.  
Hermione: You realise your rat was a traitor and, more importantly, a human and not a rat in the first place, right? And that keeping that owl is stealing?  
Harry: Is it really stealing when you steal from a thief?  
Ron: Exactly. He probably stole it first, so I’m just stealing it back.  
Hermione: Shouldn’t you then return it to the original owners?  
Ron: I thought stealing it back from a thief made me the original owner?  
Hermione: I…wait, what…  
Harry: Don’t bother Hermione. It makes sense to him, and that’s all that’ll matter to him.  
Ron: Exactly, let’s see how dinner’s going *starts heads downstairs*  
Percy: *poking his head out of his room* Hey, anyone wanna hear about my report on cauldron thickness?  
Harry: Wow, that sounds absolutely horrible. Goodbye.  
Percy: Sure, they laugh now, but some day I’ll show them. I’ll show them all.

*outside*  
Harry: …what did we just walk into?  
Ginny: Bill and Charlie always like to duel like this.  
Harry: By transfiguring the furniture?  
George: At this point it’s a Weasley family tradition.  
Bill: It’s over Charlie, I have the highchair.  
Charlie: You underestimate my power.  
Bill: Don’t try it *Charlie tries to attack with a table, which immediately gets trashed* You were the Chosen One! It was said that you would destroy the Scalies, not join them. It was you who would bring balance to the kinks, not leave it in darkness.  
Charlie: I hate you!  
Bill: You were my brother, Charlie. I loved you.  
Molly: Would you two stop it? You’re not even quoting a good Star Wars movie.  
Harry: At least it’s the best one of the prequels.

*during dinner*  
Percy: So, who wants to hear how my report is…  
The other ten people at the table: NO!  
Percy: No-one ever wants to hear about my work.  
Fred: Oh, gee, wonder why?  
George: Could it have anything to do with it sucking?  
Percy: Hey, not all of it sucks. In fact, Mr. Crouch has entrusted me with organising a secret event for your school this year.  
Fred: You know you’re not going to tempt us into asking about the Cauldron Exhibition, right?  
Percy: That’s…not what I meant *aside* Note to self, come up with another thing for the school year.  
Arthur: By the way, have you heard what happened to Bertha Jorkins?  
Percy: Yeah, she’s been MIA for a month. She probably just forgot she works for the British Ministry of Magic and keeps trying to find her way into the Albanian Ministry.  
Harry: *thoughts* Why is that name familiar, and why do I feel like not remembering where I heard it is going to bite me in the ass? *out loud* So, who’s even playing in the World Cup?  
George: Ireland and Bulgaria. We’re supporting Ireland because they’re the only UK based team left in the Cup.  
Hermione: Ireland’s not even in the UK.  
Fred: Quiet you.  
Harry: So, what happened to the others?  
George: England got annihilated by Transylvania, Scotland was taken down by Luxembourg, and Wales was beaten by Uganda.  
Harry: Wow, I don’t remember seeing most of those in the Quidditch World Cup game. And I’m pretty sure one of those isn’t even a country.  
Hermione: Well, if you want to get technical…  
Harry: Quiet you.


	6. The Harbouropener

Harry: *suddenly shooting awake* Ron, don’t touch that.  
Ron: *lowering his hand* How did you know?  
Harry: After four years, I’ve gained a sixth sense for this *sees it’s still dark outside* What time is it?  
Fred: Four a.m.  
George: Now go back to sleep. We’re trying to make contraband here.  
Harry: You have two government employees living in this house. How the hell do you keep getting away with this shit?  
Fred: How competent are they?  
Harry: …a reasonable point…  
George: Exactly. Now, go to sleep while we…  
Molly: *bursting into the room* WAKE THE FUCK UP *sees they’re all awake* Oh, good, you already are. Guess you’re really excited for the World Cu… *sees what Fred and George are doing* Fred, George, what are you doing there?  
Fred: Investing in our future.  
Molly: What did I tell you about that?  
George: What an awful mother you are, telling her children not to follow their dreams.  
Molly: If you’re good enough to do this, why didn’t you do better in your O.W.L.s?  
Fred: Hey, we got three each.  
George: We even got one in Herbology. Do you know how few people give a shit about that subject?  
Ron: Neville likes it.  
Harry: Exactly, no-one important likes it.  
Molly: Whatever, just get ready.  
Fred and George: Yes mum.  
Molly: But first, ACCIO CONTRABAND! *piles of candies, as well as things that appear to be toys and other fake items, fly at Molly, knocking her backwards and down the stairs*  
Harry: *as more and more stuff flew out of the room* Jesus, how much stuff did you make?  
Fred: If our stash were bots, they’d be T-Series’s entire subscriber list.

*later*  
Arthur: Well, we’re off.  
Harry: Wait, where are Bill, Charlie, and Percy? I mean, I don’t care if those last two join us, I just thought they’d be here with us.  
Molly: Oh, they can Apparate, so they’ll be coming down at a more reasonable hour.  
Harry: WHAT?! Can’t Arthur just Apparate us to…  
Molly: Harry dear, do you really trust him to do that with six other people successfully?  
Harry: …then why don’t you do it?  
Molly: Because I want to punish Fred and George for disobeying me.  
Hermione: So why are the rest of us up?  
Molly: To get angry with them for making me get you up at four in the morning for no real reason.  
Ginny: That’s evil. I love it.  
Harry: Of course you do. So, I guess we’re getting there by…walking?  
Arthur: You can if you want. The rest of us are going to grab a boot.  
Harry: …what?

*an hour and a half later, at the top of a hill*  
Harry: Again I ask…what?  
Fred: It’s a portkey, Harry.  
Harry: I don’t come from a magical family, Fred.  
George: Magic teleporting item. It’ll take us to the World Cup at a set time.  
Harry: So, instead of teleporting with Apparation, we’re teleporting with a boot?  
Ron: It’s cool, right?  
Harry: It’s stupid, but plot’s gotta plot, right? Actually, that raises a good question: why is it here, instead of at your house?  
Ron: For the other people living in this area, duh.  
Harry: Who the hell else would want to get up at this ungodly hour of the morning to grab a smelly old boot when they can apparate?  
Amos Diggory: Hey Arthur, have you seen a smelly old boot around here? We need to grab it to get to the World Cup.  
Harry: …you’re fucking kidding me.

Cedric: Hey Bella, what’s up?  
Harry: Hey, don’t call me Bella. What is this, a hollyheadharper fanfic?  
Ron: I thought their name was ActualWeeb?  
Harry: Things change Ron, keep up.  
Cedric: Sorry, I just really like the name Bella…  
Fred: Really? That’s the reference we’re going with?  
George: Now we hate you even more.  
Harry: Why do you hate him in the first place?  
Amos: Oh, they’re just jealous that my boy Cedric beat the great Harry Potter in Quidditch.  
Harry: You realise he only won because I fell off my broom while being attacked by dementors, right?  
Amos: Pfft, details.  
Fred: Well, you’re kind of a dick.  
George: We should hate him even more, right Harry?  
Harry: I don’t hate him.  
Fred and George: But you just said…  
Harry: I fell off my broom, and it was raining very heavily. Frankly, I’d have done the exact same thing, if only to get out of the rain.  
Cedric: Thanks Harry. I look forward to playing you in Quidditch this year, so we can settle this once and for all in a fair contest.  
Arthur: You’re assuming you’ll be playing Quidditch this year.  
Harry: What’s that supposed to mean?  
Arthur: So, was there anyone else coming Amos?  
Amos: Nah, the Lovegoods are there, and the Fawcetts aren’t going.  
Hermione: Who are the Fawcetts?  
Harry: Who cares?  
Ron: Not gonna ask who the Lovegoods are?  
Harry: I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough.  
Arthur: Guys, it’s about to go *everyone grabs hold of the boot* Any second now *nothing for about fifteen seconds* Just give it another moment…  
Harry: I can’t believe we listened to *suddenly gets whisked away* HOLY FUUUUUUUUUU…


	7. Travelling Salesman and Squat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione arrive at the Quidditch World Cup. Oh, and the Diggorys too, but it's not like they're important to the plot.

Harry: …CK! *lands very roughly with Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred, and George*  
Arthur: What are you guys complaining about? *casually floats to the ground with Amos and Cedric*  
Fred: Could you warn us next time it’s going to be that rough?  
Arthur: I thought you knew.  
George: You know we’ve never travelled by portkey before.  
Arthur: Why would I know that?  
Ron: You’re our father.  
Arthur: I have kids?  
Hermione: Sir, more than half of them are here right now.  
Arthur: Oh, right… *turns to Cedric* Are you one of them?  
Harry: Okay, that’s enough stupidity for one day *sees his arm had landed across Ginny’s chest and quickly removes it* Oops, sorry.  
Ginny: Oh, I don’t mind.  
Harry: I know. That’s the problem *starts leaving with the others*  
Ginny: Damn, he still thinks…knows I’m evil *follows them to a wizard wearing a poncho and a kilt*  
Basil: Alright, you’re the guys from Stoatshead Hill? Weasley and Diggory? Alright, here’s where your campsites are.  
Arthur: Thanks Basil.  
???: What about me?  
Amos: Who cares? You don’t even get a name.  
Cedric: Then why does Basil get a name?  
Amos: Boy, do not acknowledge the background characters. You’ll never become a main character that way.  
Harry: Don’t worry, I’m sure there was a good reason you guys came up just now. Guess we’ll just have to see what happens.

Basil: You don’t need to keep the portkey Arthur. We can dispose of it.  
Arthur: I was gonna keep it as a souvenir.  
Basil: Whatever. Fucking weirdo.  
Cedric: Guess I’ll see you guys at Hogwarts.  
Fred: Hope not.  
George: That way Harry can crush Hufflepuff this year.  
Harry: Guys, chill. It’s not his fault that dementors are assholes.  
Fred: But it IS his fault for winning.  
Harry: Which is what he’s supposed to do.  
George: SHUT UP AND LET US BE ANGRY AT HIM!

*later, approaching the campsite*  
Roberts: You another one of those weirdos that booked a spot in advance?  
Arthur: Indeed I am.  
Roberts: Even though most folks just turn up and set up camp?  
Arthur: …yes.  
Roberts: Whatever, you cultists just do what makes you happy, as long as I get paid I don’t care.  
Ginny: We’re not cultists, we’re Satanists.  
Roberts: Money’s money. Besides, what’s the difference?  
Ginny: This *glares at Roberts house, which catches fire*  
Roberts: HOLY CRAP, my wife and kids are in there *runs back towards his house*  
Harry: Do you ever feel any guilt for this kind of thing?  
Ginny: Should I?  
Harry: That’s what I thought.  
Ginny: Huh? Oh, you were asking me something? I was questioning whether I should Obliviate that guy’s memory once he’s in his burning house, making him forget why he went in there in the first place.  
Harry: Please don’t.  
Ginny: *as the guy entered his house* OBLIVIATE!  
Roberts: Huh, why was I in here again? Guess I better stay here until I remember.  
Ginny: Sorry, were you asking something?  
Harry: Never mind.

*at the campsite*  
Arthur: Here we are.  
Harry: Why did that muggle make our spot so small when we have such a large group?  
Ron: Because Muggles aren’t as smart as us?  
Harry: …I mean, I can’t object to that. Hermione on the other hand…  
Hermione: My parents are in the medical industry.  
Ron: Yeah, but they’re dentists in England, so they can’t be that smart.  
Ginny: Hey dad, I’ll start the fire for us.  
Arthur: No, no, we need to do it like muggles do.  
Harry: Why? The only muggles around for miles just came down with a nasty case of ‘killed by your daughter’.  
Arthur: That’s so sad. Is there a cure?  
Harry: Not unless true necromancy becomes a thing in this universe.

Ginny: Seriously, I got this. All I gotta do is *Ginny blinks, and suddenly half the nearby woods are ablaze* Oops, overdid it a little. Oh well.  
Hermione: There weren’t people in there, were there?  
Ginny: I’m sure they’ll forgive me. You can even hear them.  
Harry: That’s the sound of people screaming.  
Ginny: That’s the sound of forgiveness. Screams, then silence.  
Arthur: Well, we’re still gonna need to put out that fire. Harry, Ron, Hermione, take this bucket and get some water from that tap at the far side of the campground.  
Harry: This is a shot glass.  
Arthur: Same difference.  
Hermione: You know, the Aguamenti charm should be sufficient to…  
Arthur: No, no, we need to do this like muggles.  
Harry: WHY?! There are no muggles anywhere. The ministry have charmed this place to get rid of them. Hell, us putting out a fire with wands would be the LEAST weird thing they’d see even if they were here *points at a tent with a chimney, a tent that looked like a two-storey Victorian-era house, and a tent with solar panels on the roof*  
Hermione: He’s right, that last one’s especially ineffective in England, even in our summer.  
Arthur: Just because they’re showing off doesn’t mean we have to. Now, off you go.  
Harry: Fred, George, back us up.  
Fred: Sorry, but we have contraband to sell.  
Ron: I thought mum confiscated it all.  
George: That’s why we smuggled some away in our…  
Harry: I don’t even want to know.  
Fred: By the way Ron, we’re gonna need the stuff we smuggled out in you too.  
Ron: You told me that was Harry in there.  
George: We said a lot of things. Now, give it back.

*later*  
Ron: Look Harry, all I’m saying is…  
Harry: Still not gonna happen.  
Seamus: Hey guys, guess what?  
Harry: You already broke your dick?  
Seamus: No. Well, I mean I did, but also…  
Harry: Don’t care, you were only mentioned for the sake of a pointless cameo.  
Oliver: Then what about…  
Harry: You too.

*at the water tap*  
Hermione: Does that guy know he’s wearing women’s clothes?  
Harry: Probably not.  
Guy in women’s clothes: What’s wrong with it? They told me to dress like a muggle to avoid drawing their suspicions…  
Harry: Not that anyone’s doing that.  
Guy in women’s clothes: …and when I found out that muggles actually have something called a dress, I grabbed one immediately.  
Hermione: Except…that’s a dominatrix’s outfit. Complete with cat o' nine tails.  
Guy in women’s clothes: *cracks whip* Same difference *collects water and leaves*  
Harry: Seriously though, do wizards not know how to act in front of muggles?  
Hermione: Well, Ron certainly doesn’t.  
Harry: Him grabbing my butt is not a weird occurrence, regardless of the audience.  
Ron: Of course not, because we’re in lo…  
Harry: Finish that word, and I’ll force feed you Polyjuice Potion so that you look like me and send you to the Dursleys.  
Ron: Are you saying you want your DNA inside me?  
Harry: …crap, I need a new punishment.

Hermione: Hey, what’s that?  
Ron: Probably the Irish tents. That’s why they’re covered in shamrock.  
Harry: But why go to the effort of growing shamrock, even magically? What’s wrong with an Irish flag or something?  
Ron: Pfft, boring.  
Harry: Whatever. I’m guessing the Bulgarians are doing the same thing with roses?  
Ron: Why would they do that? *points at Bulgarian tents, which have a moving picture of someone*  
Harry: Who the fuck is that?  
Ron: Why, that’s Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker. How could you not know that?  
Harry: By being out of contact with the wizarding world for the last two months.  
Ron: The man’s a genius. I so hope we get to meet him.  
Harry: So do I. Maybe you’ll start stalking him instead of me.  
Ron: Oh Harry, you know you’ll always be my number one.  
Harry: Guess it was a little much to hope for.  
Cho: Hi Harry.  
Harry: Uh, hi? *despite standing still, the bucket suddenly bumps forward* I’m still into Asians, apparently.  
Ron: What about redheads?  
Harry: Oh yeah, like that’ll ever happen.

*later, at the tent*  
Charlie: *appearing with Bill and Percy* What’s going on? It looks like when that dragon got loose in Paris the other day.  
Bill: Should have known you had something to do with that.  
Charlie: How were we supposed to know it wouldn’t like bondage gear?  
Percy: It? As in you don’t even care if it’s male or female?  
Charlie: Dragons have genders?

Harry: Can we move this along? We’ve only covered like five minutes of the movie. Hell, there’s still three chapters before we even reach Hogwarts.  
Hermione: Wait a minute Harry, we still have to meet the people the chapter’s named after.  
Harry: Alright, where are…  
Ludo Bagman: Well, if it isn’t Harry Potter.  
Harry: Should I find it disturbing how many people are obsessed with a fourteen year old?  
Bagman: How are you going, Mr. Potter?  
Harry: Better if random people would just ignore me.  
Bagman: I’d like you to meet Mr. Bartemius Crouch Sr.  
Harry: I wouldn’t.  
Crouch Sr.: Can we hurry along Ludo? I just want to get to the box so I can watch the game.  
Bagman: Oh, what’s the rush Barty? It’s not like there’s anything you need to keep an eye on in there.  
Crouch Sr.: *eye twitch* Yes, of course not.  
Percy: Mr. Crouch, I’ve nearly finished the report on cauldron thickness.  
Crouch Sr.: Who the fuck are you?  
Percy: Sir, I work for you.  
Crouch Sr.: So do a lot of people. Now, I’m going to my seat. You just stay here and pretend I complimented your work or whatever it is you peasants do.  
Percy: Yes sir *starts grinning stupidly*  
Crouch Sr.: Ugh, idiots *leaves*  
Fred: Percy, he’s gone. You can stop pretending now.  
Percy: Pretending what? Mr. Crouch just complimented me.  
Bagman: So, who wants to do some gambling?  
Hermione: Sir, most of us are under age, and would not wish to partake in…  
George: Thirty seven galleons, fifteen sickles, and three knuts on Ireland to win, but Krum catches the Snitch.  
Hermione: Seriously, do you have any idea how illegal this is?  
George: Hermione, when have I ever lost? If Fred had been the one making the bet, this would never have worked. But because it’s me, it’s more of an investment.  
Fred: I’ll win it back this year, you’ll see.  
Bagman: Excellent. A guaranteed win for me. Well, see you all at the match *leaves*

Percy: Probably should have asked him if he’d heard anything about Bertha Jorkins yet.  
Harry: Seriously, who is that? Also, when’s the match starting? *torches light up, making a path through the burning woods* Well, that answers one question. Now, can we make it through those flames? Find out next time.


	8. The Wizard Soccer Earth Championship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione go to the Quidditch World Cup.

Harry: I can’t believe we made it through those flames.  
Ginny: They knew better than to burn me or anyone I care for.  
Harry: Okay…so I get me and you, but why’s Hermione unharmed?  
Ginny: She’s smart. I might have a use for that.  
Harry: Right…and the twins?  
Ginny: Fellow agents of chaos. I can’t disrespect fellow practitioners of the art.  
Ron: Hey Harry, I’m a little on fire. Can you pee on me please?  
Hermione: Aguamenti *puts Ron, Percy, Bill, Charlie, and Arthur out*  
Ron: HEY! I already asked Harry to do that.  
Harry: You know that wasn’t going to happen.  
Ron: You don’t know that.  
Arthur: On to our seats then.  
Hermione: Sir, you’re still smouldering a bit. Maybe we should…  
Arthur: I paid a scalper good money for these tickets…  
Harry: That you magicked into fake tickets.  
Arthur: …and I’m not having them wasted now.  
Hermione: This will only take a…  
Arthur: Let’s go kids *enters the arena. Everyone else follows*

*at their seats*  
Harry: You really went all out when you forged these, didn’t you?  
Arthur: What would be the point otherwise?  
Man: Excuse me sir, you appear to be in our seat.  
Harry: Wow, like we didn’t see this happening.  
Arthur: Oh, I’m sorry, I thought my tickets said these were our seats. Let me just double check *holds out portkey for the man* Could you hold this for a moment for me?  
Man: Uh…sure *takes portkey, and immediately disappears, while screaming*  
Harry: Wow…did you plan that in case someone tried to claim their seats?  
Arthur: You mean did I plan for someone to steal my souvenir? Hell no.  
Fred: Did you really expect any different?  
Harry: No, not really. So, any idea who else will be in here with us?  
George: Probably someone important, but so far there’s only that freak over there.  
Harry: What freak over… *sees who it is* Dobby?  
Winky: You know Dobby?  
Harry: Oh, sorry. You just look like him.  
Winky: I’m a woman.  
Harry: I’m just saying you house elves all look very similar.  
Winky: YOU RACIST ASSHOLE!  
Harry: I didn’t mean it like…err…how is Dobby, by the way? I haven’t heard from him since I freed him.  
Winky: You did that?  
Harry: Well, I don’t mean to brag, but…  
Winky: Because since then, he’s been homeless. Finding work by selling himself on the street.  
Harry: Oh God, I’m sorry. And disgusted that there are people who are into house elves, though considering I’m sitting next to Charlie, not entirely surprised.  
Charlie: Hey, scalies are perfectly normal. Elvies are not.  
Harry: Why do you know what they’re called?  
Winky: Dobby’s not to upset about strange men slamming him though. He enjoys the pain too much to care.  
Harry: Oh God, I don’t need to hear this.  
Winky: In fact, sometimes he lets the centaurs run a train on him…  
Harry: THAT’S IT, shut up and bring someone else here to shut this up.

Fudge: What’s up, peasants?  
Harry: Not much of an improvement, but I’ll take it.  
Fudge: Arthur, what are you doing here?  
Arthur: Err…you invited us?  
Fudge: What? No I didn’t, I invited Steve…  
Arthur: Oh, right. Steve couldn’t make it, so he gave me his tickets.  
Fudge: Oh, well that was nice of him.  
Arthur: Yeah, it was *to himself* Note to self: Obliviate Steve. Also, find out who Steve is. Or just Obliviate everyone named Steve. Yeah, that’ll do.  
Fudge: Ah, I see that Crouch has sent his house elf to reserve his seat for him.  
Harry: Wait, he left before us. How is he not here yet?  
Fudge: Probably because of that freak forest fire that started randomly. I guess we’ll never know how it began.  
Ginny: Never know? I posed for photos and had an interview with some trash bag reporter about it.  
George: Was it anyone we’ve heard of?  
Ginny: Just some blonde tabloid slut.  
George: Ah, Rita Skeeter then.  
Lucius: Excuse me, coming through, I need to get to my… *sees Arthur* Oh, I’m sorry, I must be in the wrong section. I specifically asked for a seat with no poor people nearby. I don’t want to get infected with it like I did a couple of years ago.  
Arthur: *glaring* Lucius.  
Lucius: Yes, that would be my name Arthur. How are you today?  
Arthur: Who did you bribe to get into this box?  
Lucius: Bribe? Are you kidding? These tickets were cheaper to buy outright than to bribe for. If anything, people should be suspicious of YOU bribing someone to get those seats.  
Draco: But father, they’re poor.  
Lucius: That just raises more questions. So, whose body did you sell on the streets, your wife’s or your daughter’s?  
Ginny: Are you sure you want to make a joke like that about me in front of me?  
Lucius: Oh, what’s the worst that could happen? You’re just a little… *sees his robes are suddenly made of leeches* Huh, well played.  
Ginny: Now, get the fuck out of here, Lucy.  
Lucius: My name’s not… *sees Ginny’s face* Yes ma’am *leaves with Draco*

Percy: Hey look, they’re having a display of the country’s mascots.  
Harry: Cool. So, Ireland will have leprechauns…  
Bill: HARRY! That’s racist stereotyping.  
Harry: Well what the fuck else are they gonna have?  
Bill: …potatoes?  
Harry: So, what do Bulgaria have?  
Ron: Those *points at Veela*  
Harry: What are…  
Veela: Do you love us?  
Every man in the arena: Yes.  
Veela: What will you do for us?  
Every man in the arena: Anything and everything.  
Ginny: *sees Harry is hypnotised by the Veela too* Oh no you don’t *slaps him really hard*  
Harry: *shakes his head to clear it* Oh, thanks, I guess.  
Ginny: I don’t want you leering at other species. Your leering should be reserved for me.  
Harry: Uh…no thanks.  
Ron: Yeah, he only leers at me.  
Harry: Why weren’t you hypnotised?  
Hermione: He’s too infatuated with you for that.  
Harry: So, do you finally believe that magical creatures exist?  
Hermione: Hell no. Do you still believe in magic? Obviously they just released a mixture of testosterone, dopamine, and serotonin into the air so that all the men had a reaction like this.  
Harry: What reaction *sniffs air* And what’s that smell? *sees what every man in the arena is doing* …HOLY CRAP!!!!! There are children present…who seem to be…you know what? We need to skip this vulgarity before we get kicked off the internet.  
Ron: No Harry, they’re called Bulgarian, not vulgarian.  
Harry: *glares at him, before punching him in the face* Well, I feel better now.  
Charlie: *snapping out of Veela spell* Why do I feel like I just masturbated to something that wasn’t a dragon?  
Harry: Because you did. Everyone did. Honestly, I’d be surprised if some of the women don’t get pregnant off just the smell.  
Ginny: I won’t be. I won’t allow it. Unless it’s you. Get in me.  
Harry: Please stop that.  
Ron: Yeah, he’s mine.  
Harry: I was talking to both of you.  
McFondles: What about me?  
Harry: Where the fuck did you even come from?  
McFondles: Where children are present, so shall I be.  
Harry: *pushes him out of the box* Get the fuck out of here.

Bill: Hey guys, they’re about to bring out the Irish mascots. I wonder what they could…  
Harry: They’re leprechauns.  
Bill: You don’t know that.  
Percy: They’re totally leprechauns.  
Bill: You can’t prove…  
George: What the fuck are you trying to convince us they are?  
Bill: Just saying, you can’t officially say it until…  
Bagman: And now, the Irish mascots, leprechauns.  
Bill: Oh my God, who could have seen this coming?  
Fred: Everyone. Everyone saw this coming.  
Arthur: I didn’t.  
Fred: You don’t count.  
Bagman: And now, to introduce the Bulgarian players: Meaningless player 1, Meaningless player 2, Meaningless player 3, Meaningless player 4, Meaningless player 5, Meaningless player 6, and VICTOR KRUM!  
Ron: WOO! Only worthwhile player on the field.  
Bagman: And now, the Irish team, except who cares because the only player to do anything in this series has already been introduced.

Harry: Wait, we’re actually gonna get to see the game? We’re not gonna jump past it like in the movie?  
Hermione: Don’t be silly Harry, no-one can see anything. This is a fanfic.  
Ron: Yeah, just like the readers didn’t see those five goals the Irish just got.  
Harry: Wait, WHAT?!  
Charlie: Yeah Ron, it’s actually seven.  
Harry: Wow, we are seriously abridging this game, aren’t we?  
Percy: Kieran can’t be bothered memorising the names of the thirteen irrelevant characters, so Ireland are now thirteen goals up and Bulgaria have their only goal.  
Harry: He just wants to finish this chapter, doesn’t he?  
Bill: Well, the score’s now a hundred and seventy to ten, and Krum’s about to catch the snitch, so…  
Bagman: And Victor Krum catches the snitch, ending the game. Even though one of his teammates was about to score a goal, which would have brought the game to a tie and at least reset the scoreboard for them…I think. Rowling’s never mentioned that. Once she stops deciding every character’s sexuality, maybe she’ll get to it.  
Fred and George: Money please.  
Bagman: What are you talking abou…oh, the bet. Right…  
Ginny: You know, I have a good feeling about this year.  
Harry: Why did you, SPECIFICALLY you, have to say that?


	9. The Black Streak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is festive after the Irish won the World Cup...
> 
> ...but then, everything changed when the Death Eaters attacked.

Arthur: Don’t look so worried Harry. Molly will only be angry at me if she finds out that Fred and George were gambling.  
Harry: Are you in no way concerned that your Satanic daughter thinks this year will be a good one?  
Arthur: Ginny wasn’t born in Mexico.  
Harry: I don’t know why I talk to you about this stuff. Maybe one of the responsible adults in this group will understand my concerns. Like Bill or Percy.  
Charlie: What about me?  
Harry: Since when is fucking a dragon responsible?  
Ginny: Don’t count on them helping you. They know what’s good for them, and know not to talk about anything I do.  
Harry: God damn it.  
George: Don’t look so down Harry. Ireland just won the World Cup.  
Fred: And I just won my first bet ever.  
Hermione: You know that’s all leprechaun gold, right?  
Fred: What makes you say that?  
Hermione: *pointing at the writing on the bag* Property of Patrick O’Sullivan.  
George: Probably just something a buddy of his gave him.  
Hermione: Fine, don’t believe me, but I’m telling you it’s fake.  
Fred: Oh yeah? I bet you that it’s real.  
Hermione: …okay.  
George: WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU SAY THAT?!  
Fred: Don’t worry, I’ve got a good feeling about this.  
George: That’s what I’m afraid of.

Arthur: Alright, everyone off to bed.  
Ron: But we’re not tired.  
Arthur: You’re right, we need to stay up and party until we are tired *hears an explosion outside* See, everyone else is.  
Percy: Why are people screaming?  
Arthur: They’re excited about the game *another explosion* Maybe it’s fireworks?  
Bill: Why does it look like a hellscape outside?  
Arthur: …overly excited Irish fans?  
Ginny: Those are terror screams. Trust me on this.  
Arthur: Look, things aren’t as bad as they seem…  
Harry: Why are they wearing masks?  
Arthur: …we might be in a little more trouble than I thought.  
Percy: Dad, those are Death Eaters.  
Arthur: Don’t be silly Percy. Cannibalism is illegal.  
Harry: Alright, enough of this stupidity. Who’s in favour of running away?  
Hermione: Oh, what’s the worst that could happen?  
Percy: Those guys are magical Nazis who hate people with non-magical parents.  
Hermione: …I second Harry’s running away idea.  
Ginny: I vote to stay and see how this plays out.  
Arthur: Fred, George, protect your little sister. Get her as far away from here as possible.  
Ginny: What? *gets picked up by Fred* NO! Please, no, I don’t want to go. Put me down. PUT ME DOWN! If you don’t put me down right now, I’ll start revealing Endgame spoilers.  
Fred: Yeah, I’m sure our readers will be real thrilled with that.  
George: To be fair, everyone knew he was gonna die. Not necessarily the how, but they knew it was coming.

Ron: Come on Harry, let’s go into some dark corner of the forest where no-one can find us.  
Harry: To hide from the Death Eaters, right?  
Ron: We can do that too. Come on *drags Harry into the forest*  
Hermione: HEY! Wait up.  
Ron: Fine, I guess you can watch.  
Draco: Aww, are you three running from the little bit of fun happening in the campground?  
Harry: Shut up Malfoy. We all know your dad’s probably one of the ones doing it. Besides, you’re hiding in the trees too.  
Draco: I’m only here so I can find mudbloods to tell the Death Eaters about.  
Hermione: Hey Malfoy, how’s your nose?  
Draco: …okay?  
Hermione: I can fix that for you.  
Draco: …move along.  
Harry: Damn right we can *flips Draco off as he leaves* Wow, it’s dark here. Luckily we have wands to… *checks himself* Um, guys? I’ve lost my wand.  
Ron: I’ve found it.  
Harry: My MAGIC wand, Ron.  
Ron: This wand is magical to me, Harry.  
Harry: And sexual assault for me.  
Hermione: LUMOS! *the area around them lights up*  
Ron: Hey, you’re using magic outside Hogwarts.  
Hermione: So?  
Ron: That’s against the rules, isn’t it?  
Hermione: Screw the rules, there are homicidal maniacs nearby.

Harry: Hey, what’s that?  
Winky: *coming out of a bush, seemingly being dragged by something or someone* Winky wants to be away from the ones attacking the muggles. Please, come with Winky to safety *Winky disappears out of the clearing without even looking at the three of them*  
Harry: Umm…was she talking to us, or…  
Hermione: She said she was getting away from the Death Eaters. That should be good enough for us.  
Ron: I don’t know, can you really trust Crouch? I mean, everyone knows about his son.  
Harry: We don’t, nor do we care. If things go sideways, start punching.  
Hermione: What makes you think that will work?  
Harry: Because Voldemort tried to kill me with magic when he could have just as easily thrown me out the window. Honestly, I think the Death Eaters can’t fathom doing anything without magic, so physical violence will confuse them.  
Hermione: Anyway, what was with the way she was moving?  
Ron: Didn’t ask permission to hide?  
Hermione: When they’re in danger?  
Ron: Them’s the rules.  
Hermione: What kind of stupid rule is “you’re not allowed to protect yourself when in danger?”  
Harry: One that I suspect will lead to a plotline they skipped in the movies.  
Ron: So, are we following the house-elf, or…  
Harry: Yeah, sure, see if that advances the plot or not *heading through the trees* Winky? Where are you Winky? *sees a figure through the trees* Is that you *approaches, sees they’re too big to be Winky* Oops, my mista…  
???: MORSMORDRE! *green flash erupts from the wand*  
Harry: Wha… *falls over*  
Ron: Well, that was a thing.

Hermione: Guys…*points at the sky* What the fuck is that?  
Harry: That would be a skull with a snake coming out of it. Not sure why someone would bother making tha… *suddenly, the clearing is full of ministry* …well, hello there…  
All the ministry people: STUPIFY!  
Hermione: GET DOWN! *drags the other two down as the spell is fired, causing most of the Ministry guys to hit each other* What the hell?  
Arthur: Oh, ah, please don’t fire, it’s just my son and his friends *sees his wand is still smoking after firing the spell, and quickly hides it*  
Harry: Seriously though, what the hell was that about?  
Crouch: Which of you cast it?  
Harry: I…  
Crouch: HE ADMITTED IT! ARREST HIM!  
Harry: …don’t have my wand right now.  
Crouch: …ARREST HIM FOR TRYING TO COVER FOR THE REAL CULPRIT!  
Hermione: Sir, we…  
Crouch: SHE ADMITTED IT WAS ALL THREE OF THEM!  
Harry: You seem very arrest happy. Like you want to push the blame to someone else, no matter what.  
Crouch: WHAT?! How dare you accuse me of that. I can accuse other people if I want. Maybe it was that guy *points at Arthur*  
Arthur: Shit, he’s onto me *dives into a nearby bush*  
Harry: To be fair, he’ll believe anything you say about him, no matter how ludicrous.  
Arthur: No I don’t.  
Harry: You’re Michael Jackson.  
Arthur: But Billie Jean is not my lover. Beat It, since you’ll be defeated when you get hit by, you get struck by a Smooth Criminal.

Crouch: Well, if you three didn’t do it, who did?  
Harry: There was a guy over there who did it.  
Arthur: Hey, maybe one of our spells hit them *goes over to check for a body*  
Hermione: I seriously doubt…  
Arthur: I found someone.  
Hermione: Are you fucking kidding me? Surely they could have just Apparate out of here?  
Harry: By the way, how do you explain that? And portkeys?  
Hermione: Harry, I think we have more important things to worry about right now.  
Arthur: Here they are sir *dumps Winky in front of them*  
Ron: Good work dad.  
Harry: That’s not who it was. The one who did it was definitely human, and had a much deeper voice.  
Ron: Look, she’s holding a wand.  
Harry: Oh, for fuck’s sake…hey, that’s my wand.  
Ron: ARREST THIS BITCH!  
Harry: Ron, you saw who cast the spell. You know it couldn’t have been Winky.  
Ron: I know. But she’s touching your wand. That’s MY property.  
Harry: Just…no.  
Bagman: *appearing on the scene* The fuck’s going on here? *sees the Dark Mark* Oh…that’s not good…  
Harry: What the fuck even is that?  
Amos: *waking up from being Stupified* Honestly child, you of all people should know that.  
Harry: I take it it’s Voldemort related? *a distance crack of lightning is heard* Huh…weird.  
Amos: Child, that is the Dark Mark, You-Know-Who’s symbol.  
Harry: Huh…and someone designed a spell for the sole purpose of putting that in the sky? Does it…does it do anything? Like, at all?  
Arthur: It looks scary.  
Harry: So…it does nothing then?  
Ron: You know this means You-Know-Who’s coming back, right? And he’ll want revenge on the one who nearly killed him.  
Harry: It’s not my fault he doesn’t know how to dash a baby’s brains against the sidewalk.  
Ron: Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.  
Harry: Excellent. You can be my meat shield while I run away.

Crouch: Are we all forgetting that my house elf summoned the Dark Mark?  
Harry: She didn’t, but go on.  
Crouch: WINKY! Wake the fuck up.  
Winky: *waking up* Winky didn’t do it.  
Arthur: Oh, well, if that’s the case, sorry for bothering you sir.  
Winky: Did you just assume my gender?  
Crouch: Winky, we know you cast the Dark Mark. You were found at the scene of the crime, holding a wand, and we have witnesses.  
Harry: To someone ELSE doing it.  
Amos: For God’s sake, put that child’s wand in my hand…  
Harry: PHRASING!  
Ron: Plus, that wand is only allowed to be in MY hand.  
Amos: Listen, I can find out what the last thing to come out of that wand was…  
Harry: Oh my God.  
Amos: Just let me play with that child’s thing.  
Harry: Are you related to McFondles? I swear, you’re doing this on purpose.  
Amos: *receiving Harry’s wand* Hmm, his wood is thicker than I thought.  
Harry: Oh, come on. What would your son think if he heard you saying these things?  
Amos: Who cares? He missed the game because he was auditioning to be in some superhero movie.  
Harry: Wow, he’s gonna be in the MCU?  
Amos: Nope, he’s going to be in the train wreck one. But enough banter, time to make our wands touch.  
Harry: Just…whatever.  
Amos: PRIOR INCANTATO! *a serpent comes out of the wand* Deletrius *The serpent disappears*  
Crouch: Winky *rips off his pants* YOU’RE FIRED!  
Harry: And on that note, let’s leave.


	10. Chaos in the Cabinet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Weasleys get home after the mayhem of the Quidditch World Cup.

Bill: So…does this mean he’s back?  
Arthur: Nah, probably just some punk teenagers have a laugh.  
Percy: By summoning the symbol of the Dark Lord?  
Arthur: Oh, all kids have their silly phases. Why, my boy Charlie had one where he would jerk off to Godzilla movies.  
Charlie: It’s not a phase dad, it’s who I really am.  
Arthur: Besides, they even found several kids at the scene of the crime, and one of their wands had been used to cast the spell. Case solved.  
Harry: HEY! That was MY wand that someone ELSE used.  
Percy: HARRY! How could you? After what He did to your parents.  
Harry: Exactly. How could I? Until today, I didn’t even know there WAS a spell for the sheer purpose of looking creepy. Seriously, who the fuck decided we needed a spell like that?  
Ginny: Voldemort, obviously *a thunder strike is heard nearby*  
Hermione: Huh, not a cloud in the sky.  
Arthur: Well, we better all get some sleep before we head home.  
Ron: But we’re not tir…  
Harry: NO! Don’t say that. Remember what happened last time?  
George: Speaking of which, Fred, do you want to go check on our gold?  
Fred: Like I said, I have a good feeling about this…  
Arthur: *pulling out his wand* Alright, to sleep everyone. _Adsomnum materfututorum_ *everyone falls to the ground where they were standing*

*later, when they woke up*  
Harry: *waking up and seeing Ron and Ginny, still asleep, arm wrestling over his dick* Yeah, that seems about right.  
Arthur: Alright, everyone wake up. We’re going home now.  
Harry: Um, sir? You magically forced everyone to go to sleep. I don’t know when any of them are going to wake up.  
Arthur: You leave that to me *pulling out his wand* _Wingardium Leviosa_ *everyone else in the tent is suddenly floating*  
Harry: HEY! Put me down. I’m not asleep.  
Arthur: But you’re easier to carry this way.  
Harry: I can walk.  
Arthur: Shh, it’ll be cheaper to get everyone back if I pretend it’s just me.  
Harry: What do you… *suddenly flying thousands feet in the air with the others* WHAT THE FUCK?!

*back on the ground*  
Arthur: One to go back Basil.  
Basil: Weren’t there ten of you last time? Also, the Diggorys are going back the same way. Also, why is your wand pointing straight up?  
Arthur: Why are you looking at my boner?  
Basil: …You know what? I don’t care anymore. Just go *hands Arthur a portkey*  
Arthur: Excellent *takes portkey, and immediately drops all the others from the sky*  
Basil: What the fu… *Arthur vanishes with the kids* …I don’t get paid enough for this shit.

*at The Burrow*  
Arthur: Now, remember everyone, don’t wake your mother. She doesn’t know we were gone.  
Bill: When the fuck did we get home?  
Arthur: That’s the spirit *opens door*  
Molly: Oh thank God.  
Arthur: SHIT, SHE SPOTTED US! RUN! *dives out of a nearby window*  
Harry: You’re just gonna let him do that?  
Molly: He’ll forget why he was doing it soon. I’m just grateful all of you are okay, after what I saw in the Daily Prophet *holds up article*  
Percy: Mum, this article was written by Rita Skeeter. The Karkrashians have a better grip on world news than she does.  
Molly: Fake reporter or not, that’s the fucking Dark Mark.  
Harry: Oh, wow, the super scary thing in the sky that does NOTHING!  
Molly: See? Poor Harry’s terrified of it.  
Harry: Oh, come on Mrs. Weasley, I have more respect for you than this. Don’t become your husband.  
Arthur: Well, I better get to work.  
Hermione: It’s four thirty in the morning.  
Arthur: But if I leave now, I’ll beat the traffic.  
Molly: What traffic? You can apparate.  
Arthur: OH NO, SHEs STILL HERE! *apparates away*

Molly: So, what happened out there?  
Ron: Why are you looking specifically at us?  
Hermione: Because it’s always us. Name one time when it isn’t us.  
Harry: Look, the short answer is, someone stole my wand, cast the apparently evil Dark Mark, and left Winky to take the fall.  
Molly: Oh no, that’s awful…wait, who’s Winky?  
Fred: Crouch’s house elf.  
Percy: FORMER house elf.  
George: Actually, the events Harry was describing were while Winky was still employed, therefore what Fred said was correct.  
Percy: I… *thinks about it* You know, if you put that much thought into your OWLs you might have earned a few more.  
Fred: We’re businessmen. We don’t need to be smart for that.  
Molly: Name one businessman who isn’t smart.  
George: Donald Drumpf? Let’s face it, he went bankrupt several times in the 90s, he’s probably bankrupt right now.  
Charlie: They’re not wrong.  
Molly: BUT THEY SHOULD BE!  
Harry: Hey, uh, has Hedwig arrived with a letter for me?  
Molly: Why no, she hasn’t. Why, are you expecting one? And from who? *everyone stares at him expectantly*  
Ginny: Twenty Galleons says it’s from Sirius Black.  
Fred: You’re on.  
George: Why would Harry write to him? He’s a serial killer.  
Ginny: Because he seems like such a nice guy, especially since he didn’t kill Harry despite having the opportunity to.  
Harry: Well, I’m gonna go lie down.  
Ron: I’m coming too.  
Harry: Why do I get the feeling you just announced your intentions?  
Hermione: I’ll go with you too.  
Harry: Well, that’ll offset part of the problem.

*in Ron’s room*  
Hermione: So, did you write to Sirius?  
Harry: Yeah, I just wanted to let him know I would be here instead of the Dursley’s.  
Hermione: Oh, that’s fair enough.  
Harry: And that my scar was hurting the other day.  
Hermione: Oh…that’s less good.  
Ron: What’s the problem? It’s a scar. It’s meant to hurt.  
Harry: Considering that the last time it did I was in the presence of Voldemort *distant thunder crack* Okay, that’s just getting ominous.  
Hermione: Harry, you need to talk to someone like Dumbledore about this.  
Harry: I don’t…  
Hermione: As Headmaster of a school for advanced science, he probably has some experience with injuries caused from such rare weaponry and might know how to treat it.  
Harry: Yeah, I’m pretty sure we’re not thinking of the same person.  
Hermione: What actually happened?  
Harry: Well, I was having a dream…  
Hermione: Oh, well then it’s probably nothing.  
Ron: Don’t worry Harry, if your scars hurting, I’ll be right here to kiss it better.  
Harry: NO! I want it to feel BETTER, not worse. Anyway, Voldemort *distant thunder crack* and Pettigrew were planning to kill someone, probably me. And let’s not forget what Trelawney said last year.  
Hermione: Yeah, this threat’s definitely just in your head.

*a few days later*  
Arthur: Honey, I’m home.  
Molly: You’re not scared of me right now?  
Arthur: Should I be?  
Molly: Well, you’ve been at work for the last three and a half days.  
Arthur: Oh, just sorting out some insurance claims from the World Cup.  
Molly: Isn’t that the insurance company’s job, not the Ministry’s?  
Arthur: …okay, nobody tell Fudge that I paid out Mundungus Fletcher’s twelve story tent with a jacuzzi.  
Percy: Dad, his “tent” was a cloak on a couple of sticks.  
Arthur: …DEFINITELY nobody tell Fudge about that then.  
Harry: How well are you guys going in smoothing this whole thing over?  
Arthur: I think it’s going pretty well.  
Percy: And by that he means Rita Skeeter is having a field day.  
Harry: Seriously, who is she? And why do I get the feeling I’m going to hate her once I hear the answer?  
Fred: She writes gossip pieces.  
George: And pretends that reporting anything involving celebrities is journalism.  
Harry: Yep, knew I’d hate her.  
Percy: At least she doesn’t know about Crouch’s house elf.  
Hermione: You mean the one that was unfairly fired after Crouch exposed himself in front of us?  
Harry: Hermione, please don’t make this a plot point. There’s a reason it was cut from the movies.

Ron: *coming downstairs* MUM! You gave me one of Ginny’s dresses.  
Molly: Ron, those are your dress robes. You need them this year for…something I’ve been told not to tell you about.  
Percy: And it better stay that way.  
Harry: They look like the ragged old clothes you put on a scarecrow.  
Molly: Well, I suppose they are a little old.  
Harry: How old?  
Molly: …thirty-ish.  
Hermione: They’re only thirty years old?  
Molly: Goodness no, I meant they were made in the thirties.  
Harry: Good, he can be mocked in front of the entire school when he wears them.  
Molly: You have some too.  
Harry: How could you do this to me? You’re one of the good adults.  
Molly: *holding them up for him* I got them new and in a more modern style.  
Harry: Oh *turns to Ron, doing a Nelson Muntz impression* HA-HA!


	11. Riding the School Train

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys board the Hogwarts Express. Yes, we're finally getting to the freaking plot.

Harry: Well, it’s the end of the holidays. Guess we’ll be going back to Hogwarts now so that the plot can actually start… *sees Amos Diggory’s head in the fireplace* …if it wasn’t for all the other magical shit I’ve seen over the last four years, I’d actually be confused by this.  
Ron: It’s just a lazy version of Floo Powder.  
Harry: Probably not, but whatever.  
Hermione: It’s kind of dangerous using teleportation like this, seeing as how it requires you to destroy every atom of your body and rebuild it perfectly on the other side.  
Harry: Somehow, that explanation isn’t the stupidest thing on the planet.  
Amos: Look, can one of you just tell Arthur I’m here? There’s been a ruckus at Mad-Eye Moody’s place. And right before he got to start his new job too.  
Harry: So he’s our Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher, then?  
Amos: How the hell did you figure that out?  
Harry: Because we change Defence teachers annually, and he’s starting a new job when term goes back. Not hard to figure out.  
Molly: Hold on, I’ll go get Arthur for you *yelling* ARTHUR! Amos is in the fireplace.  
Arthur: Tell him I’m not home.  
Amos: I just heard you Arthur.  
Arthur: Oh…Amos, I’m not home.  
Amos: Look, just meet me at Mad-Eye Moody’s place. Shit went down last night.  
Arthur: Well, duh. That’s what happens when you have an evening poop.  
Amos: Ugh, whatever *disappears*

Arthur: Phew, I was worried he’d make me actually do some work.  
Molly: You know you could get fired if you don’t go, right?  
Arthur: Oh, what are they going to do? Fire me?  
*ten seconds of silence*  
Harry: Umm…  
Molly: Give him a moment.  
Arthur: …OH SHIT, I could get fired *quickly Apparates out of there*  
Harry: Wow, you have more faith in him than I do.  
Molly: I’ve been married to him for over twenty five years…  
Harry: You poor thing.  
Molly: …and I’ve figured out when he’s stupid, when he’s a moron, and when he’s an imbecile.  
Harry: There’s a difference?

Bill: So, someone attacked Mad-Eye? How much is left of them?  
Percy: They’re probably scraping it off the pavement as we speak.  
Harry: And this guy’s going to be working at a school?  
Charlie: What, you haven’t had a homicidal maniac as a teacher before?  
Harry: Does the back of one of their heads count? If not, then only on a full moon.  
Hermione: So, who is he?  
Fred: Only one of the most successful dark wizard hunters of all time.  
George: But because doing that tends to get you a few enemies, he’s gone a bit paranoid in his retirement.  
Ron: By setting up security spells around his house that explode anything that crosses them. Mailmen dread getting his route.  
Ginny: Sounds delightful.  
Molly: Well, we’ve gotta get you kids to Hogwarts. The taxis should be getting here soon.  
Harry: You can’t just apparate us onto the platform? I mean, there’s four adults here, and six kids to go to Hogwarts. It would only take two trips to do it. And it’s not like either end will require you to worry about being seen by muggles.  
Percy: Harry, you know perfectly well logic doesn’t thrive here.

*at King’s Cross*  
Harry: You know, those drivers are going to talk about how they had to transport ten people, six of them lugging heavy trunks, two of them with pet owls, and make people suspicious because of how weird that is.  
Molly: And I keep telling you that they’re not going to say anything. See, watch *turns to cab drivers* Obliviate.  
Bill: Did you remember to pay them?  
Percy: And how much did you erase? *sees one of the drivers get back into his cab, immediately reverses into one of the other cabs, drives forward into the other, then screeches over the curb and lands on the train tracks, right as a train comes through* Oh, that much.  
Harry: Nah, that’s pretty standard for cab drivers the world over.  
Molly: Alright everyone through the portal, train will be leaving soon.  
*on the platform*  
Hermione: See you later, guys. It was a pleasure meeting you.  
Charlie: Don’t worry, I have a feeling I’ll be seeing you guys again real soon.  
Harry: Is Hagrid hoarding dragons again?  
Charlie: As much as I’d like that, I don’t think he is. You see…  
Percy: No Charlie, you can’t tell them yet. I haven’t even finalised all the details yet.  
Ron: All the details of what?  
Percy: Well…I shouldn’t be telling you about this, but the International Cauldron Exhibition is getting held at Hogwarts this year…  
Fred: Nobody cares about that event.  
George: What’s the real thing you’re hiding?  
Percy: Hey, cauldrons are important.  
Harry: Look, we’re gonna find out tonight at the feast anyway. Or at least we should, since we’re nearly a third of the way through the book and haven’t even gotten to Hogwarts yet.

Molly: Alright, everyone on the train.  
Harry: Why? How long have we got? *sees the train moving* Oh *starts running after it with the others*  
Ron: *jumping onto the train* Harry, grab my hand *Hermione grabs it instead* HEY! I said HARRY! *tries to throw her off the train*  
Hermione: You know, I could have Crookshanks attack another one of your pets.  
Ron: *glares at her* Harry, grab my hand.  
Harry: That’s okay, I’ll get in the next carriage.  
Ginny: He said “get in” *suddenly they were in a compartment with Ron and Hermione*  
Harry: When did we…  
Ginny: I decided it, so it became so.  
Draco: Hey Potter, enjoy the World Cup?  
Harry: Sure did. Did you enjoy marching out of the stadium because she forced you too? *Ginny waves innocently at him*  
Draco: Yeah, well…I know what’s happening at school this year and you don’t.  
Harry: Yeah, well, we’ll find out about it…NEXT CHAPTER?! Are you kidding? We’re waiting TWELVE chapters in a thirty seven chapter book to get to the plot?!  
Neville: Hey guys, I’m here too.  
Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Draco: NOBODY CARES, NEVILLE!


	12. The Three Mage Contest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The students arrive at Hogwarts, and learn about a special event happening at the school this year. If you don't know what this event is, why the hell are you even reading this thing?

*on the Hogsmeade station platform, rain coming down heavily*  
Hagrid: A’righ’, first years this way.  
Hermione: Hey Hagrid, are you still taking the first years across the lake?  
Hagrid: Well, yea’. It’s tradition.  
Harry: Even when common sense would dictate NOT doing that? Hell, you’ve got a bunch of the best witches and wizards teaching at this school, surely one of them could magic up a…  
Ron: Harry, when has common sense been a thing in this series?  
Harry: Fair enough.

*in the Entrance Hall*  
Ron: Ah, so good to be out of the rain *gets pelted in the face with a water balloon* What the hell?  
Harry: Peeves.  
Ron: How the hell do you know?  
Harry: He’s literally filling another one up two feet in front of us *sees he’s finished* Speaking of which *steps to the side as Peeves throws it, letting Neville take it instead*  
Neville: I swear, one day I’ll be cool.  
Harry: Yeah, good luck with that.  
McGonagall: PEEVES! Stop that at once.  
Peeves: Why? I’m having fun.  
McGonagall: Because the children are already drenched. What you’re doing is the equivalent of pissing into a sea of piss.  
Peeves: Piss? An excellent idea professor *flies off with his water balloons*  
Harry: Good God woman, what have you done?  
McGonagall: Don’t worry, he can’t urinate, so you should be fine.  
Peeves: *off in the distance* Come on Mrs. Norris, just a few squirts will be fine.  
McGonagall: …that, on the other hand, might be a problem. For Mr. Filch, of course.  
Hermione: I don’t get why you just let that rogue A. I. roam the castle so freely.  
McGonagall: …what?  
Harry: Your top student still doesn’t believe in magic.  
McGonagall: She doesn’t believe in magic?  
Harry: You didn’t know that?  
McGonagall: Then how does she…  
Harry: She’s thinks it’s really advanced science.  
McGonagall: Bah, science. Who believes in that shit?  
Harry: Oh, come on, can’t there be ONE fantasy series where science and magic are equally accepted?

*in the Great Hall*  
Ron: Can we have food now? I’m starving.  
Hermione: Ron, you know we have to wait for the sorting ceremony first.  
Harry: Oh yeah, I forgot about that. How do they do that these days, seeing as the Sorting Hat’s M. I. A.?  
McGonagall: *walking past wearing what appears to be heavy military gear* You’ll see soon enough, Potter.  
Harry: …should I be concerned?  
Colin: Hey Harry.  
Harry: Oh good, my other stalker.  
Ron: You had a stalker before him?  
Harry: You ARE the stalker before him.  
Ron: Silly Harry, there’s a difference between stalkers and best friends.  
Colin: I really hope my brother ends up in Gryffindor too.  
Harry: Wait, aren’t your parents muggles?  
Colin: Yeah, why?  
Harry: What are the odds that both you AND your brother would both be wizards when neither of your parents are?  
Ron: Oh Harry, it happens all the time. If one child of non-magical parents is magical, all of them are.  
Harry: No, they’re not. I have an aunt that proves this.  
Hermione: Shh, the sorting ceremony’s about to begin *points to Hagrid leading the first years into the Great Hall*  
Dumbledore: Let the Hunger Games begin.  
Harry: *as McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick, and Sprout pull out automatic weapons* WHAT?! *the four teachers start firing paintballs at the first years* Oh, that’s what they’re doing.  
Flitwick: This is much more fun than sitting through that mouldy old hat read people’s minds.  
Sprout: Why didn’t we think of this sooner?  
Snape: Probably because these are muggle technology.  
Flitwick: We need to stop dismissing this shit. Who wants to go to the muggle store tomorrow?  
Snape: Don’t you have classes tomorrow?  
Flitwick: Oh, right. Minerva, can you get your students to transfigure some lightsabres tomorrow?  
McGonagall: Filius, you know that’s a seventh year spell, and I don’t have anything above fourth tomorrow.  
Flitwick: Damn it.

*once the Sorting Ceremony was over*  
Dumbledore: Alright, everyone start stuffing your faces.  
Ron: About bloody time.  
Nearly Headless Nick: You know Ron, the Sorting Ceremony is important.  
Ron: *through a mouthful of food* Mmfmfmmfmf mmf.  
Nick: What?  
Harry: I think he told you to shut up.  
Nick: Well, fine. I guess the house elves who cooked this outdid themselves this year.  
Harry: *seeing Hermione heard this and putting her fork down* Uh oh…  
Hermione: House elves made this?  
Nick: Well, of course. Where did you think the food came from? Magic?  
Hermione: Of course not, that would be ridiculous.  
Harry: Hermione, I’m begging you, please don’t make this a plot point.  
Hermione: It’s just that I’ve never even seen a house elf here.  
Nick: Well, obviously. Good help is neither seen nor heard.  
Harry: *sees Hermione push her unfinished food away* God damn it Nick.  
Hermione: From this day forth, I will not eat anything made from slave labour.  
Nick: They’re hardly slaves if they don’t ask for payment.  
Hermione: Do they know they should be paid?  
Nick: Well…no, but…  
Hermione: EXACTLY! It’s slave labour. In the twentieth century. How can such an advanced school allow such outdated practices?  
Harry: You realise that Hogwarts probably provides them with all the food and shelter they need, as well as holidays when school’s out, and therefore have no need for money?  
Hermione: Harry, are you saying you approve of slave labour?  
Harry: I didn’t say either of those words.  
Hermione: Exactly. I’m not going to eat anything served here until those house elves get the recognition they deserve.  
Harry: Uh huh. And what will you eat instead?  
Hermione: I…think I have some Tic-Tacs in my pocket.  
Harry: Well at least your breath will smell good while you starve to death.

Dumbledore: Oh yeah, I had more shit to say.  
McGonagall: Albus, the children are still eating.  
Dumbledore: Oh, right *magics the remaining food away, causing many complaints* Now that I have your murderous glares, I have some more announcements.  
Fred: How about more food?  
Hermione: You know it comes from slave labour, right?  
George: So do Disney movies, but you still starred in one of those.  
Dumbledore: First of all, there will be no Quidditch this year.  
Every student: …what?  
Dumbledore: Instead, we will be hosting a very special event: the annual Cauldron Exhibition.  
Fred: PERCY, YOU SON OF A BITCH!  
George: You know the bitch in question is our own mother, right?  
Fred: And your point?

*back at The Burrow*  
Molly: *suddenly looks up from what she’s doing* I think someone’s talking negatively about me.

*back at Hogwarts*  
Dumbledore: Oh, and also… *the door to the Great Hall opens, revealing a mysterious and freaky looking man, who marches straight up to the teacher’s table and sits down* Doctor Who is that?  
McGonagall: Albus, that joke doesn’t work yet.  
Dumbledore: Oh…introducing your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher…I assume. I honestly don’t remember hiring anyone.  
Snape: Then what were you going to do for that class?  
Dumbledore: Honestly, I was just gonna let the kids form a club and practice in secret.  
Snape: That sounds like a horrible idea that would never work.  
Dumbledore: You don’t know that yet. Anyway, bedtime.  
McGonagall: Albus, remember the OTHER thing that was going to happen this year? The one I daresay the kids will be more interested in.  
Dumbledore: I dunno, the Cauldron Exhibition sounds pretty cool.  
Snape: Sir, my class revolves around cauldron use, and I hate everything about that event.  
Dumbledore: *sighs* Fine, we’ll also be hosting two other schools for an event called the Triwizard Tournament, which brings the winner honour, glory, and a one million galleon cash prize, but I doubt any of you will be interested in…  
Fred and George: We’re totally signing up.  
Dumbledore: No you’re not, it’s for seventeen year old’s only.  
Fred and George: WHAT THE FUCK, MAN?! *other students start yelling objections*  
McGonagall: I told you that there’d be more students interested in this than the Cauldron Exhibition.  
Dumbledore: But the way Percy described it made it seem so much cooler.  
Snape: Yes, you should totally listen to the eighteen year old who was unpopular even within his own family and has only just started working for the Ministry. THAT was never gonna work out badly.  
McGonagall: Maybe you should explain the Tournament before we have an all out riot on our hands.  
Moody: Or you could use this as a way to find your champion.  
McGonagall: You keep out of this, Alastor.  
Moody: …oh, right, that’s my name, isn’t it?  
McGonagall: Hmm…  
Dumbledore: Well, how this works is, a representative from each of the three schools enters, and one leaves. They might even leave alive if they’re lucky. Unfortunately, those spoilsports at the Ministry demanded that we make it at least survivable this time, and that only students who know what they’re doing can enter.  
Ron: So wait, if this doesn’t affect us, why is it even mentioned?  
Harry: I suddenly have a very bad feeling about this.  
Dumbledore: An impartial judge will be choosing candidates, so don’t bother entering if you’re too young.  
Fred: Want to find a way to corrupt the judge?  
George: You read my fucking mind.  
Dumbledore: Now, go to bed.

*on their way upstairs*  
Neville: Guess it’s for the best that the Tournament’s only for older students. I’m not sure if I’d be able to…AHHHH! *falls through a fake step in the staircase*  
Dean: He forgot it was there again, didn’t he?  
Colin: Hey Dennis, look! You know who that is, right?  
Harry: Are either of you two important to the plot? *they shake their heads. Harry pushes them through the fake step* Ahh, so satisfying.


	13. Insane Pupil Gloomy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The students attend their first day of classes.

Fred: I say we develop an aging potion. No-one will know that we’re too young if we do that.  
George: Especially if they’re an unbiased third party with no knowledge of us.  
Lee: There’s no way this plan could fail.  
Harry: And here I was thinking a simple fake ID would work fine.  
Hermione: Silly Harry, as if they’d think of something that simple.  
Fred: Hey, didn’t you have a time turner?  
George: Any chance we could borrow it to go into the future and send our future selves back to compete in the competition?  
Hermione: First of all, I don’t have it anymore. Second of all, how’d you find out I have one? And third of all, me and Harry are still paranoid that we’ve broken the timeline beyond all repair after everything that happened last year.  
Harry: At least our time travel stuff made more sense than Endgame’s.  
Ron: Hey Hermione, why are you loading your plate with stuff? I thought you weren’t eating food prepared by lesser beings?  
Hermione: *glares at him* How can any of you let him get away with this racist crap?  
Lee: Meh, I’m just glad it’s not directed at my people this time.  
Dean: You mean our people, right?  
Lee: Yes I do *high fives him* Why don’t we have more scenes together?  
Dean: Maybe because…  
Hermione: Anyway, the reason I’m eating it is because I think there are better ways for me to campaign for house elf rights.  
Harry: You ran out of Tic Tacs, didn’t you?  
Hermione: Irrelevant *practically inhales her food, causing stunned silence from the others*  
Harry: Okay…that happened…the only way that could have been more horrifying is if your jaw unhinged like a snake.  
Ginny: What’s wrong with snakes?  
Harry: I nearly died from one a year ago, remember? You were there and mostly the cause of it.  
Ginny: Oh yeah. Good times.

Ron: Mail’s here *watches all the owls flying in with stuff*  
Fred: You wanna take bets on what Neville forgot this year?  
George: That seems a bit mean, so of course I do.  
Neville: Why do you assume I forg… *a package lands in his lap* …shut up.  
Fred: I bet he forgot his robes.  
Neville: It’s Trevor.  
Fred: FUCK!  
George: Next time, check and see if he’s wearing his robes first.  
Harry: Huh, still no sign of Hedwig.  
Ron: Who cares? We just got our timetables, and it looks like we’ll be having Herbology first thing on a Monday.  
Harry: Today’s Friday.  
Ron: Off we go.

*in the Greenhouses*  
Sprout: What the fuck are you kids doing here?  
Harry: Apparently the week resets when we come to Hogwarts.  
Sprout: Oh, that’s right. Now, before we begin, Mr. Finnigan, you may excuse yourself as soon as you hurt yourself.  
Seamus: Why? What are we doing?  
Sprout: We’re collecting pus.  
Harry: Your entire class is fourteen years old. Pimple pus is ninety percent of our faces.  
Parvati: PIMPLES?! EEK! Lavender, get them off me. GET THEM OFF ME!  
Lavender: Hold on, I got it *pulls out wand* _Furnunculus_ *there was a flash of light*  
Parvati: Are they gone?  
Lavender: I don’t know, you didn’t have any to begin with. Quick, do me now.  
Seamus: Do as in…  
Lavender: Get the pimples off my face.  
Seamus: Damn it. One day…  
Parvati: _Furnunculus_ *a flash of light in front of Lavender’s face* Luckily, I don’t think you had any pimples either.  
Sprout: Three.  
Lavender: What?  
Sprout: Two.  
Parvati: Huh?  
Sprout: One *Parvati and Lavender suddenly gain hundreds and hundreds of pimples*  
Parvati: WHAT THE FUCK?!  
Lavender: GET THEM OFF! GET THEM OFF! *runs out of classroom with Parvati*  
Sprout: Maybe if they’d looked past the word pimple, they’d have realised what the spell actually did. Ironically, the pus we’re collecting is used for curing acne.  
Harry: So, we’re curing pus, with pus?  
Hermione: Yeah. Everyone knows the best way to fight fire is with fire.  
Harry: Pretty sure Pokémon taught us otherwise.  
Hermione: No it didn’t, it hasn’t even come out yet.

*later, in Care of Magical Creatures*  
Harry: Hey Malfoy, planning on mutilating yourself through your own idiocy with whatever we’re handling today?  
Draco: Silly Potter. Everyone knows that the judge ruled in my favour after he coincidentally got a large donation from my father.  
Hermione: Wow, your father was so unconfident with his case, he had to bribe a judge against an unconscious drunk man.  
Draco: How dare you mudblood. Goyle, say something scathing to her.  
Goyle: Duh.  
Draco: Ooh, that’s nasty. Crabbe, follow it up.  
Crabbe: Gah.  
Draco: Man, when did you become such a savage?  
Ron: Should…should we be offended?  
Harry: Just let him pretend for now.  
Hagrid: Awright kids, ‘oo wan’s tah play with dangros anmals? *drops a box in front of them, which starts letting off several explosions*  
Seamus: Well, better stick my dick in it.  
Dean: How do you have anything left at this point?  
Hagrid: These here are Blas’-Ended Skrewts. I don’ know shit abou’ ‘em, so we’ll be makin’ this up as weh go, okay?  
Harry: Still more prepared than Lockhart.  
Hermione: Wait, I’ve never even heard of these *stunned silence from the rest of the class*  
Hagrid: ‘course not. I bred a manticore and a fire crab over the summer to make ‘em.  
Harry: I’m not even going to question how a mammal and a crustacean managed to breed.

*later*  
Hermione: I’ve got Arithmancy next, how about you guys?  
Ron: Divination.  
Hermione: You’re continuing with that farce of a subject?  
Harry: Need I remind you that she actually predicted that we’d meet Pettigrew a few months back? There’s no way anyone could have seen that coming. Except Sirius. And Lupin at the end there.  
Hermione: Lucky guess *starts shovelling food into her mouth*  
Harry: You know eating like that will make you spew, right?  
Hermione: Spew, huh? That’s gives me an idea *gets up* I’m going to the library.  
Ron: I know how you feel. Libraries make me sick too.  
Hermione: That’s not it. I’ve got an idea *leaves*  
Harry: So, we’re just going to ignore how stupid Arithmancy is as a concept?  
Ron: What could be stupid about a magical class based around mathematics? You need to be some kind of wizard to understand that shit.

*in Divination*  
Harry: I wonder how long it will be before Trelawney predicts my death?  
Trelawney: *enters the room* You’re still alive?  
Harry: A second and a half apparently.  
Trelawney: Don’t worry child, it won’t be the last time I see your death this school year. I can see at least three dangerous situations for you in the next year.  
Harry: So I was right to be anxious when Dumbledore mentioned the Triwizard Tournament?  
Trelawney: Ah, the Triwizard Tournament. Someone’s gonna die during it. Probably you.  
Harry: HA! I’m too young for it. I win.  
Hermione: *from Arithmancy* Told you she was a fraud.  
Trelawney: Now, today we’ll be learning about Astrology…  
Ron: I believe Hermione now.  
Trelawney: You, boy. The doomed one. Born mid-winter, right?  
Harry: Nope. July.  
Trelawney: Australian winter, I knew it. I also know that you were born under the rays of Saturn, a rare occurrence.  
Harry: Every twenty nine years.  
Trelawney: Why do you sound sceptical?  
Harry: Because science contradicts everything Astrology stands for. Now, either teach us something useful, or…  
Trelawney: Or what? You’ll leave? Good luck with that. Rowling has you stuck here for another book after this one kiddo.  
Harry: …fuck.

*at dinner*  
Ron: So, why is this chapter named after Moody? He hasn’t even appeared yet.  
Draco: Hey Weasley, your father screwed up at the Ministry again.  
Harry: Oh, come on Malfoy. There’s literally no-one here that’s surprised by that *turns back to face the others*  
Draco: How DARE you ignore me *pulls out his wand, only to get thrown back* What the hell? *sees Moody pointing his wand at him* You…you can’t do that.  
Moody: What, you mean cast a spell on someone while their back is turned? Like you were about to do?  
Draco: You’re…you’re a teacher.  
Moody: And you’re a student that needs disciplining.  
Draco: That…I’m gonna tell my fa… *there’s a flash of light, and suddenly Draco’s a ferret*  
Moody: Tell him what, exactly? *ferret squeaks at him* Aww, isn’t that adorable, you still think you’re a threat. _Wingardium Leviosa_ *ferret starts floating in the air*  
McGonagall: Moody, what the fuck is that?  
Moody: I believe you know him as Draco Malfoy.  
McGonagall: Oh. Well, as deputy headmistress, I am supposed to tell you that transfiguration is not an approved method of punishment for a student.  
Moody: That doesn’t sound like a command to change him back.  
McGonagall: That’s because the snobbish little prick has had this coming for years. Carry on for five minutes, or until you get bored, whichever comes first.  
Moody: Excellent. Who’s up for a game of ferret tennis *entire Gryffindor table raises their hands*  
Harry: Well, I like him. Let’s hope he’s not hiding some horrible secret.


	14. The Deplorable Jinxes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moody teaches his students three of the most illegal spells in the world, which is totally what you should be teaching school kids.

Ron: Finally, after two days of waiting…  
Harry: Six days.  
Ron: …it’s Thursday, so we get to have Defence Against the Dark Arts and see what Moody’s like.  
Fred: He’s a great teacher.  
George: You need to see it to believe it.  
Harry: Based on what happened to Malfoy the other day, I’ll believe it.  
Lee: Seriously, the guy’s a god damn nutjob.  
Harry: His name is MAD-Eye Moody. I kinda figured.  
Hermione: HARRY! That’s unfair stereotyping. Speaking of which…  
Fred, George, and Lee: We just remembered we have to be somewhere that isn’t here *leave very quickly*  
Harry: I swear to God, if this is about what I think it’s about…  
Hermione: It’s about S. P. E. W.  
Harry: …what?  
Hermione: S. P. E. W. It’s a group I’ve started for…  
Ron: That’s not until the end of the chapter. We have a new teacher to check out *leaves*  
Hermione: He’s enthusiastic.  
Harry: He’s hoping you forget about whatever you’re trying to recruit us to, as am I *leaves*

*later, in Defence Against the Dark Arts*  
Hermione: It’s not often that we beat the teacher to the class.  
Harry: Really? That’s what you’re focusing on?  
Hermione: Just saying, don’t you think it’s kinda weir…  
Moody: *kicking in the door* Alright motherfuckers, who wants to do some learning?  
Hermione: Was there a reason you were late?  
Moody: *hiding a flask in his robes* That doesn’t answer my question, but since you don’t have a choice either way, the answer has to be yes anyway, so let’s get to it. Today we’re gonna be learning how to get your ass a one way ticket to Azkaban.  
Harry: That seems like an irresponsible thing to be teaching fourteen year olds.  
Moody: Do you have a problem with my teaching methods Potter?  
Harry: I didn’t say that, I just said it was irresponsible.  
Moody: Excellent. Now, there are three Unforgivable Curses. What are they?  
Hermione: Err…should you be teaching us those? I mean, if they’re illegal, wouldn’t it be a better idea to NOT teach us them and hope that one day the spells are forgotten?  
Moody: Miss Granger, is it? I was told you were a smart one, so how about you think about this? If you know what the spells are, you can learn how to defend yourself from them. Why the hell do you think the class is called Defence?  
Hermione: But by getting rid of…  
Moody: I only have a year here, so someone give me a curse to teach you.  
Harry: At least this teacher knows he’s going down.  
Ron: *raising his hand* Umm…the Imperius curse?  
Harry: Holy shit, you actually know something?  
Moody: Weasley, is it? I figured as much from the red hair.  
Harry: That’s…racist? I think. Surely there are non-Weasley redheads in this universe.  
Hermione: Name one.  
Harry: …fuck. Well, at least they didn’t replace the redhead minority with someone black.  
Dean: That better be a reference, or there’ll be trouble.  
Harry: Just wait, the comments will be in an uproar over it soon enough.

Moody: If you’re done, Weasley has actually identified the first of the curses. Wanna see it in action?  
Lavender: On a student? I volunteer Neville.  
Neville: What?  
Parvati: Second.  
Neville: Why me?  
Harry: …third.  
Moody: Tempting, but I’m afraid I’m not allowed to use human test subjects anymore.  
Seamus: Should we be concerned about that last word?  
Moody: So instead we’ll be using large spiders.  
Ron: May I be excused?  
Moody: Absolutely not *pulls out a jar of spiders and puts one on the desk* _Imperio_ *the spider got on its back legs and started dancing the Macarena*  
Harry: Wow, was not expecting that dance to have a spell for it. Or for it to be illegal to perform it.  
Moody: Oh yes, it’s quite the crime to do that dance. However, the Imperius Curse is actually used for making people do whatever you want.  
Seamus: *pointing his wand at his dick* _Imperio_ *his dick suddenly gets ten times bigger* It works.  
Moody: Not how that’s supposed to work, but whatever. Next curse. You there, Longbottom. What is it?  
Neville: I…I don’t wanna talk about it.  
Harry: What’s with Neville? He’s the comic relief punching bag. It’s not like he’s got a tragic backstory or anything.  
Moody: What’s wrong kid? It’s not like it’s gonna emotionally scar you to hear me talk about, in excruciating detail, what the Cruciatus Curse is.  
Neville: Please stop.  
Harry: Yes, please, before he gets a tragic backstory.  
Moody: *pulling out another spider* _Crucio_ *spider curls up in pain* Ah, yes, the Cruciatus Curse. A curse designed for the sole purpose of torture. If this gets used on you, you will be in extreme physical pain. Sometimes, if it’s used on you for too long, it can cause severe mental damage, completely fucking your mind to pieces.  
Neville: Please…  
Moody: Oh, I haven’t got to the part about how the mental damage can be so severe it can force a parent to forget about their own children. Hell, I remember this one baby back in the eighties who lost both his parents to… *realises who it was that this happened to* Err… *takes the spell off the spider*  
Seamus: *pointing his wand at his dick* _Crucio_ *his dick suddenly reverts to its normal size* NOOO!

Moody: Alright, that’s two of the three. The final curse is _Avada Kedavra_ …  
Seamus: *pointing his wand at his dick* _Avada Keda_ …  
Moody: …the killing curse.  
Seamus: *pauses for a moment, then carefully puts his wand on the desk and moving his hand away* Continue.  
Moody: *pulls out a third spider* _Avada Kedavra_ *there’s a green flash of light, then the spider’s dead* No-one who has ever been hit by this spell has ever survived, except for Scarface over there.  
Harry: I did it with the power of love.  
Moody: There is no counter curse to it, no way to block it, you can’t even dodge it. If it’s used, someone’s dying.  
Harry: Except for all the times the plot demands otherwise.  
Hermione: But if it’s so unavoidable, why even teach it? If we don’t know about it, it becomes forgotten knowledge and won’t get used.  
Moody: Kid, which of us has taken down more Death Eaters than you have I. Q. points?  
Hermione: Well that’s just…  
Moody: That’s right, me bitch. Now shut the fuck up and let me teach my class *bell rings* Shut the fuck up and let me dismiss my class.

*as they were leaving the room*  
Hermione: Neville seemed really shaken up about…  
Harry: NO! No more tragic backstories. He’s had three books to have it revealed, we’re not starting now.  
Moody: Longbottom? Sorry, I forgot you live with your grandmother because of a truly depressing reason. Come and have a cup of tea with me.  
Harry: God damn it.  
Neville: Gee, sir, I don’t know…  
Moody: I wasn’t asking *grabs Neville by the elbow* Come on, I hear you’re good at Herbology. I’m gonna teach you about a magical herb that muggles use to get high.  
Neville: Muggles can fly?  
Moody: That’s what they think. Come on *roughly drags Neville up the stairs*  
Ron: So…should we help him, or…  
Harry: Nah.

*later, in the common room*  
Ron: So, what are you gonna do for your Divination homework?  
Harry: I’m just gonna look up thirty different ways to die and say I die from each of them. She’ll believe it no matter what, so I should be good.  
Ron: I’m gonna say I score with you every day, so I should be…  
Harry: Just…no.  
Hermione: Hey guys.  
Harry: I assume you’re about to talk about house elves, therefore I will tell you that I am currently busy with homework, something that you, as a nerd, can respect and will let me get back to work.  
Hermione: Harry, it’s only Divination. It doesn’t count. Anyway, this about House Elf rights, something that everyone…  
Harry: Have you even asked the house elves if they want rights?  
Hermione: Of course they do. Everyone wants rights. In fact, I’m already campaigning to have them represented better in the media.  
Harry: …you mean like in TV and stuff? Not sure that too many wizards watch muggle TV, or that muggles will care much for…  
Ron: I think she’s referring to The Happiest House Elf comic strip in the Daily Prophet.  
Hermione: Exactly. He’s shown enjoying doing household chores. No-one should enjoy that. We need to seriously stop this horrible bias against…  
Fred: Can you guys shut up over there?  
George: We’re trying to blackmail someone.  
Harry: That seems a little illegal to be talking about in a public space. Loudly at that.  
Fred: Do you see how many people are here right now?  
George: And we know you don’t care enough to tell on us.  
Harry: …good point. Continue.  
Hermione: Hey, do you want to join…  
Fred and George: Nope *leave*

Hermione: They’ll come around. Anyway, you two are now the first official members of S. P. E. W. I’m thinking two Sickles for anyone who wants to join, and they have to wear their badges in support of…  
Harry: Hermione, I never thought I’d be asking you of all people this, but did you think any of this through? You want people to PAY for the privilege of wearing a badge that says spew for a cause that the people you’re supporting don’t care about?  
Hermione: Secretary Potter, if I didn’t know better I’d think you weren’t supportive of this noble cause.  
Harry: I really don’t though. But since you’re just gonna ignore that anyway, I’m just gonna wait and see how this chapter ends *Hedwig flies through the window and drops a letter on Harry’s lap* About time you showed up *opens letter*  
Sirius’s letter: Shit fam, that sounds bad. Be there soon. Also, no I don’t care that you haven’t told your aunt and uncle I’m innocent. They sound like assholes anyway. P. S., can you please pass this anthrax on to Ron for me.  
Harry: *passing Ron a bag* Ron, this is for you.  
Ron: Thanks *throws it in the fire*  
Harry: Also, Sirius is coming back.  
Ron and Hermione: WHAT?!  
Harry: Yeah, not the smartest move when you’re the most wanted man in the country. Well, good night.


	15. Beautiful Sticks and Sturm und Drang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The other two schools arrive at Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament.

Harry: *writing a letter* “Dear Sirius, why the hell would you think it’s a good idea to come back? We still have your wanted posters around the school. Look, I’m sure nothing’s wrong with my scar, it hasn’t hurt since the night of the dream, so it’s probably fine…if you don’t count the thing with the Dark Mark, but that’s probably a coincidence. Anyway, just keep hidden until we can…I dunno, fake your death or something so people won’t suspect you. Sincerely, Harry.” Okay Hedwig, take this to Sirius.  
Hedwig: *turning away from him* *thoughts* For God’s sake, I just got back, now you want me to go out again? You didn’t even give me anything for my last trip.  
Harry: Fine, I’ll give the job to Pigwidgeon. I’m sure he’ll be…  
Hedwig: *grabbing the letter* *thoughts* Don’t you dare, asshole.  
Harry: That’s what I thought. See you in a few weeks.  
Hedwig: *thoughts* Fuck you *flies away*

*a few weeks later, in Defence Against the Dark Arts*  
Hermione: I wonder when Sirius is gonna get here.  
Harry: Oh, don’t worry about that. I wrote him a letter to tell him not to.  
Hermione: Harry! You know with forensic evidence and modern science we could prove that…  
Harry: That a man who’s already been convicted as a murderer is innocent? Will that be before or after the dementors turn him into a vegetable? Because I have a sneaking suspicion it will be after.  
Hermione: I’m sure the Ministry will listen…  
Harry: They’re the goddamn government. They don’t listen to shit.  
Ron: He’s right, you know.  
Hermione: Your dad’s in the government.  
Ron: That’s how I know.  
Moody: *bursting into the room* Who wants to be cursed?  
Hermione: That sounds incredibly illegal.  
Moody: Only if you tell your other teachers.  
Harry: Not helping your case, but I’m not objecting either.  
Moody: Excellent. Now, line up and I’ll randomly select one of the Unforgiveable Curses to put on you, and you try and throw it off.  
Dean: Didn’t you say the killing curse was unblockable, and an instant kill?  
Moody: Well, you better just hope you don’t get that one then.  
Neville: Well, I’m screwed.  
Seamus: Nah, instant death would be a mercy. You’re more likely to get Cruciatus.  
Neville: Oh God…  
Harry: Do you think he’ll actually kill anyone off?  
Ron: Maybe, but I bet he’ll just kill off a bunch a characters irrelevant to the story.  
Fred: *off in the distance* I’ll take that bet.  
George: *off in the distance* Shut the fuck up.

Moody: Alright, first victim is *pulls name out of a hat* Fay Dunbar.  
Harry: …who?  
Fay: Seriously? Check Harry Potter Wiki. I’ve been here the whole time you ha…  
Moody: AVADA KEDAVRA! *green flash, followed by Fay’s body falling to the floor*  
Seamus: …me next.  
Dean: What the fuck is wrong with you man?  
Seamus: What are the chances he’s gonna pick the killing curse twice in a row?  
Dean: One in three. The chance of it getting picked doesn’t go down just because it’s been picked once.  
Seamus: Oh…I’d like to…  
Moody: CRUCIO! *spell flies directly into Seamus’s dick*  
Seamus: …sir, may I go to the Hospital Wing?  
Moody: If you can make it there like that, you have earned the right to be treated *Seamus waddles out of the room* Neville Fatass, you’re up next.  
Neville: It’s Longbottom, sir.  
Moody: That’s what I said. Now, I think I’m gonna use…AVADA KEDA… *Neville faints* Well that’s no fun. Potter, let’s get to the only character here we actually care about.  
Ron: But what about me?  
Moody: Watch it, or Trelawney will see flashes of green in your future.  
Hermione: Aww, that’s adorable. You think she’s legit.  
Moody: You’d be surprised.  
Harry: I swear to God, If she’s ever gotten anything right, I’ll pretend to care about Hermione’s stupid house elf cause.  
Hermione: …I’m conflicted right now.  
Moody: Now Potter, prepare yourself for…IMPERIO! *magic blasts into Harry*  
Harry: Well this isn’t so bad. Huh, why do I feel like jumping on the desk? Well, better do it. Wait, that seems like a dumb idea. Probably should have realised this before I was airborne, but whatever *crashes into the desk*  
Moody: Huh…you tried to throw off the curse.  
Harry: Really? Sounds extremely plot convenient that the first time I get hit with one of the most illegal spells in the world, I’m strong enough to resist it.  
Moody: I’m gonna make you do it again, and see if you can actually throw it off completely.  
Harry: Please don’t. I’m pretty sure both my kneecaps are currently broken. If I could just go to the Hospital Wi…  
Moody: IMPERIO!  
Harry: Guess we’re doing this then.

*during Transfiguration*  
Hermione: How are you feeling Harry?  
Harry: He made me do things. Thirteen times he did that to me.  
Hermione: You gotta admit, he’s very persuasive.  
Ron: Are you just saying to justify that he had you do a strip tease for the class?  
Hermione: Only until MI6 got wind of a dirty old man telling an underage girl to get naked.  
Harry: Then he killed them all. We know. Honestly, I’m amazed he hasn’t exposed wizards before now.  
McGonagall: Will you three get back to turning a hedgehog into a pincushion?  
Harry: Do we ever use this shit? Like, ever?  
McGonagall: I’m the teacher, and I say work.

*later, in the Entrance Hall*  
Hermione: Why are there so many people here?  
Harry: Probably something to do with the Triwizard Tournament. But since we can’t enter, it won’t apply to us, so let’s keep moving…  
Ron: Don’t worry, I can check it.  
Harry: No Ron, that’s not necessary *gets dragged through the crowd* Okay, guess this is happening.  
Ron: Look Harry, the delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be here on Friday the 30th of October.  
Harry: For fuck’s sake, the 30th of October is a SUNDAY! It’s like J. K. Rowling doesn’t even own a calendar.  
Hermione: Well that seems a bit dumb. We’ll be leaving class early for their seven pm arrival. Classes end well before then, and even if we need to all help prepare the castle, the hundreds of students here could easily get everything ready in under four hours.  
Harry: Hermione, are you really gonna complain about less Potions?  
Hermione: …touché.  
Ernie: Better tell Cedric that he’ll need to sign up soon.  
Harry: Oh yeah, he’s in this fic. Guess he’ll be the Hogwarts champion.  
Fred: Not if we have anything to do with it.  
Harry: You realise only one of you will get picked right? And that’s assuming you can even sign up.  
George: That’s why we switch which one of us goes in each time.  
Hermione: But there’s three challenges, and only two of you.  
Fred: We’re counting on one of us dying in the first two challenges, and the “grieving brother” finishing what his twin started.  
Harry: …that is just beyond stupid, even by your standards.  
Ron: Yeah, I highly doubt either of you would die while the other lives.  
George: Whatever, we’ve got some extortion to do.  
Harry: Who are you blackmailing?  
Fred: HARRY! We’re not blackmailing anyone, we’re extorting someone.  
George: The x makes it sound cool.

*morning of the 30th*  
Harry: *as the group entered the Great Hall* Huh…does something seem…different?  
Hermione: You mean those banners? Banners that would have had to have been put there by unpaid house elves.  
Ron: Or magic. Like what we’ve been taught for the last three and a half books.  
Harry: I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that by the way. Have you actually SPOKE to the house elves about what they want?  
Hermione: Of course not. They don’t know what they want, and what they need is equal treatment, which is what I’m working to give them.  
Harry: Look, could you at least talk to them before we do anything else in the “club”?  
Ron: You could find out how brainwashed they are so we know how to proceed better.  
Hermione: That’s not a bad idea Ron. I better do that *leaves*  
Harry: That’s…actually not a bad idea by your standards.  
Ron: And now that I’ve helped you get away from her thing for the time being, how about you and me…  
Harry: No *owl mail arrives, including Hedwig* Ah, I’ve got a response.  
Sirius’s latter: Too late Harry, I’m already here. Don’t worry, I avoided the Ministry for months once, I can do it again…as long as you stop sending Hedwig. Sooner or later someone’s bound to notice a snowy owl flying around the Scottish countryside, and we can’t take the chance that it might be someone smart. See you soon, Sirius. P. S. Please apologise to Ron that I couldn’t get him some more anthrax in this letter, and instead accept this container of pure syphilis.  
Harry: Ron, this is for you.  
Ron: Is it more anthrax?  
Harry: No.  
Ron: Excellent *drinks entire bottle*  
Harry: Wasn’t exactly an upgrade though.  
Ron: *sees what’s in the letter* …oh…I’m going to go see Madame Pomfrey. In the meantime, please resist the urge to sleep with me.  
Harry: *sarcastically* Oh, gee, however will I survive?  
Ron: I know right? *leaves*

*that night*  
Harry: Where the hell are these people?  
Hermione: You know they’re coming from overseas right? It’ll take them a while.  
Harry: They said they’d be here by seven. It’s now seven o five…and a half.  
Ron: You know how unreliable the train can be.  
Harry: It’s arrived on time every year we’ve been here.  
Ron: What about our second year?  
Harry: You know what happened that year.  
Neville: Guys, look!  
Harry: Nobody cares Neville.  
Neville: No, it’s one of the schools *points at a horse drawn carriage in the sky*  
Harry: How fricken big do they need that thing?  
McGonagall: Oh, you’ll see *carriage lands, and out steps the Headmistress, standing at about eleven and a half feet*  
Harry: …oh…Oh God, did we just introduce a love interest for Hagrid?  
Dumbledore: MINERVA! The Amazons are attacking! QUICK! Get the students to form a defensive barrier so I can escape.  
McGonagall: Albus, Madame Maxime is here for the Triwizard Tournament.  
Dumbledore: Oh…Get the students to form a defensive barr…

Maxime: Albus, I see you are still a…how do you English say…senile old git.  
Dumbledore: She’s French? That means I’m duty bound as an Englishman to kick her ass.  
McGonagall: *heavy sigh* We are honoured to have you, Madame Maxime.  
Maxime: Excellent. Now, who shall take care of our horses?  
McGonagall: That would be our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, Hagrid.  
Maxime: And you are sure he will be up to the task? My horses will only drink single malt whiskey.  
McGonagall: Umm…he’ll have enough.  
Harry: Wouldn’t bet on it.  
Neville: Hey guys, look at the lake.  
Harry: Neville, stop trying to be important.  
Ron: He’s right though *points at a ship rising out of the lake*  
Harry: Son of a bitch.  
Dumbledore: HOLY SHIT MINERVA! The Amazons brought pirates as backup. RUN! *jumps through a window into the castle*  
McGonagall: And somehow, he’s the Headmaster here *turning to face the Durmstrang students and teachers* Welcome Igor.  
Karkaroff: Ah, hello Minerva. Tell me: is Albus around?  
Dumbledore: Tell Jack Sparrow to get lost.  
Harry: I thought he was Grindelwald.  
Ron: Guys…  
Harry: Nobody cares Ron.  
Ron: But…Viktor Krum.  
Harry: What… *sees Krum among the Durmstrang students* Well, guess we know their representative then.


	16. The Chalice of Flames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We find out who the competitors in the Triwizard Tournament are.

Ron: Holy shit guys. Guys? Guys! Viktor Krum is here. GUYS! Viktor Krum is…  
Harry: We heard you Ron. Maybe you can stalk him for the school year instead of me.  
Ron: Don’t worry Harry, there’s room in my heart for two.  
Harry: Is that so? Well, maybe this relationship can’t work if that’s the way you…  
Ron: Okay I choose you Harry.  
Harry: SON OF A FUCK!  
Hermione: What’s the big deal? He’s just a sports player.  
Harry: Yeah, and so is David Beckham, but guess what? Kieran’s cousin David* is still extremely popular with the ladies.  
Hermione: Well, I know I’m not interested. Nope, not in the slightest.  
Harry: Good. Hopefully this other sub-plot that’s about to start will distract you from the one you’re currently in.  
Hermione: Wait, what other sub-plot?  
McGonagall: Alright, everyone into the Great Hall, and we’ll begin the welcome feast.  
Dumbledore: Don’t bring them in here. We didn’t beat the French and the Germans in World War II to let them be welcome in our country.  
Hermione: I don’t even know which inaccuracy to address first.

*in the Great Hall*  
Ron: Hey Viktor. VIKTOR! There’s a seat over here. VIKTOR! VIKTOR!  
Harry: Ron, you do realise there are three hundred other students also yelling the same thing, right?  
Ron: Quick, use your influence as main character to bring him over him.  
Harry: Why would I do that for you?  
Ron: Because you could have prevented THAT from happening *Viktor sits down next to Malfoy, who looks smug*  
Harry: Aww, isn’t that cute? Malfoy finally has a celebrity best friend. Too bad a muggle-born beat him to that.  
Draco: HOW DARE YOU! I’ll tell my father that…  
Hermione: Oh, shut up ferret boy.  
Viktor: *looks at Malfoy, who’s suddenly sweating nervously* Ferret boy?  
Draco: Err…it’s an affectionate nickname? Yeah, that’s it, because she loves me so much…  
Hermione: That is so not tru…  
Harry: Wait a minute Hermione *clears throat, and makes sure everyone in the Hall can hear him* Wait ‘til your father hears you said that.  
Draco: *between his teeth* I…will…kill…you…Potter.  
Hermione: You know what Harry? I like your idea better.  
Beauxbatons girl: Excuse me, are you gonna eat zat?  
Ron: No, go ahead, you… *sees the girl* Uhh… *heart starts beating out of his chest*  
Beauxbatons girl: *ignoring this* Thank you *takes the plate and leaves*  
Ron: *heart finally stopping* What the hell was that? I normally only get a boner when looking at Harry.  
Ginny: Is that so? *aside* Mental note: there’s something about that Beauxbatons girl. Figure it out, and exploit the shit out of it.  
Dumbledore: If I may have your attention please, I have a few announcements about our intruders.  
Hagrid: *bursting in through the front doors* I’ll seh! Who the fock let their winged ‘orses drink my focken whiskeh?  
Maxime: That would be me.  
Hagrid: Oh… *heart starts pounding out of his chest* Well, in that case, ‘ave at it.  
Harry: You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.  
McFondles: I heard something about fucking kids?  
Harry: And you can fuck off, you pathetic excuse for a running gag *McFondles leaves*  
Ron: What does he even teach here?  
Hermione: Pedimancy.

Dumbledore: Anyway, I have been informed that they are here to compete in a kind of Olympics of Death, so we, and by that I mean you, will show them how good this school, and by extension me, is by winning this thing.  
Bagman: *entering with Barty Crouch Snr.* Don’t forget the other two judges of the event.  
Crouch: Why the fuck did I agree to this?  
Bagman: Oh, come on, what’s the worst that could happen?  
Crouch: I get stuck talking to you. And since that’s already happening, I really wish someone would just kill me.  
Dumbledore: I’m sure that could be arranged. But for now, I must introduce the way that students and intruders get signed up for the Triwizard Tournament *waves wand to reveal the Goblet of Fire* Behold, an item that was made for the purposes of this one thing and will never be used again, the Goblet of Fire.  
McGonagall: That looks like solid gold.  
Dumbledore: It is.  
McGonagall: How did you afford…  
Dumbledore: Never you mind. On an unrelated note, thanks for taking a HUGE pay cut.  
McGonagall: God fucking damn it Albus.  
Dumbledore: Anyway, to sign up for the tournament, simply put your name and school on a piece of paper and throw it in the goblet. If you’re not seventeen, the fire will simply burn your entry.  
Fred: Well that doesn’t sound so bad.  
Dumbledore: And probably some other stuff that I won’t tell you about because it’ll amuse me to see you try.  
George: Bring it on.  
Lee: Damn, white people are idiots.  
Dean: I know right?  
Dumbledore: You have twenty four hours to enter. And to prove we’re serious, you have twelve hours.  
McGonagall: No they don’t.  
Dumbledore: Fine, whatever. But you know everyone knows the names of two of the three champions already, and can probably guess who the other one is.  
McGonagall: Alright, that’s enough bullshit for one day. Everyone off to bed.  
Harry: Good, because this thing that will have no impact on us is taking up too much time in this book.  
Karkaroff: You boy. You’re Harry Potter, right?  
Harry: So what if I am?  
Karkaroff: Hmm…Viktor, looks like you’re not the only celebrity here. You’ll have to try extra hard in the tournament, to prove you are the best celebrity here.  
Harry: The last guy to try that lost his memory.  
Moody: Hey Karkaroff, back off Potter, or I’ll send your ass back to Azkaban. And I’m sure Bowling Ball Bag Bob will be happy that ass is back in there.  
Hermione: You were in prison, but they let you become Headmaster of a school?  
Karkaroff: Don’t worry, it was only a minor offence.  
Moody: Minor my ass. You were a…  
Karkaroff: Anyway, off to bed *leaves with his students*

*the next day*  
Ron: Wonder who’s put their names in the Goblet.  
Third-year blonde Ravenclaw girl: All the Durmstrang kids, though I think they all wrote Krum’s name. Can I be a main character yet?  
Harry: Maybe next book.  
Fred: Hey guys, we made an aging potion.  
Hermione: Do you really think Dumbledore didn’t think of that?  
Harry: To be fair, I don’t think he did.  
Lee: I’m just here to laugh at their failure.  
Harry: Aren’t we all?  
George: Here goes *drinks potion, and steps across the age line. Nothing happens*  
Fred: HA! Told you it would work *drinks potion and steps over line, ready to put name into the Goblet*  
Goblet: BEGONE CHILD! *the floor underneath Fred and George suddenly flings them into a nearby wall*  
George: Ow…  
Harry: Figured that was coming. Can we have breakfast now?  
Ron: What about later?  
Harry: I don’t know, go to Hagrid’s?  
Hermione: Great idea, I can ask him to join S. P. E. W. *runs to get her S. P. E. W. stuff*  
Ron: So, we’re still going to Hagrid’s, or…  
Harry: If only to warn him Hermione’s coming.  
Angelina: Hey guys, I signed up for the tournament.  
Harry: Great. Watch as Cedric becomes the champion for Hogwarts instead.  
Angelina: You don’t know that.  
Harry: Yes I do. Everyone knows it. And not just because this book is nearly twenty years old.

*later, heading down at Hagrid’s*  
Ron: So…where do you think the other schools are sleeping?  
Harry: Why? So you can sneak into that Beauxbatons girl’s room?  
Ron: What? No.  
Harry: Yeah, I didn’t think you’d…  
Ron: I wanna sneak into Krum’s room.  
Harry: Of course you do. Anyway, can’t people in this world essentially make their own T. A. R. D. I. S. so that everything is bigger on the inside? Your own dad did it at the World Cup. They’re probably sleeping in the cart and the ship they arrived on.  
Ron: Oh Harry, that’s just ridicu… *sees students from the other schools leaving the ship/cart* …shut up.  
Harry: Anyway, here we are at Hagr… *sees Hagrid passed out drunk in his garden, surrounded by the Beauxbatons winged horses, also drunk* Yeah, that seems about right.  
Hermione: *running up to them, sees Hagrid* Oh…I’ll just pin this on him. I’m sure he was interested in joining anyway *pins S. P. E. W. badge on him*  
Ron: How long do you think until he notices?  
Harry: Who said he would notice?

*later, at the Halloween feast*  
Dumbledore: Alright, time to find out who…  
Hagrid: *bursting into the Great Hall, holding the badge* HEY! I mighta bin drunk, but I didn’ spew *crushes badge*  
McGonagall: Rubeus, are you admitting to being drunk around children?  
Hagrid: I ain’t ever bin outdrunk by a winged ‘orse before, and I ain’t startin’ now.  
Manime: A man after my own heart.  
Dumbledore: You won? Excellent. On with the ceremony *Goblet of Fire spits out a piece of paper* Okay, first name is…aww, they’re not from Hogwarts *crumples it up and throws it away*  
McGonagall: *picking up paper* Viktor Krum from Durmstrang. It’s not his handwriting, but it’s his name, so come on down *Viktor Krum walks to the front of the Hall and through a side door as the next name comes out*  
Dumbledore: *grabbing the piece of paper* Aww, this one isn’t Hogwarts either *throws it away*  
McGonagall: *reading it* Fleur Delacour from Beauxbatons *the girl from the previous night gets up and goes through door Krum went through as the final name came out of the Goblet*  
Dumbledore: Finally, the Hogwarts name *reads who it is* Aww, he’s a Hufflepuff student *throws it away*  
McGonagall: *reading it* Cedric Diggory from Hogwarts *Cedric gets up and follows the other two*  
Dumbledore: Okay, now that we’re disappointed with our three champions… *doesn’t notice Goblet about to spit out another name*  
Harry: Oh no…  
Dumbledore: …let’s get this feast starte… *sees Goblet spit out another name* …Minerva, am I going dumb, or did the Goblet spit out a fourth name?  
McGonagall: Both sir *picks up paper and hands it to him*  
Harry: *praying* Please don’t be me, please don’t be me, please don’t be…  
Dumbledore: Harry Potter?  
Harry: MOTHERFU…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the reason I’m referring to David Beckham as my cousin is because of a running joke in my family. Basically, my dad’s done a lot of genealogy stuff, and found some Beckhams living in England a while back. We joked about how we could be related to David, but then dad did a bit of digging into David’s family history and, while he didn’t find a direct connection, he traced David’s family back to the same area as our Beckhams, in a time where long travel was extremely rare, so there’s a not unreasonable chance that we’re distantly related. On top of this, I actually put my picture into a thing to find out which celebrity I looked the most like, and guess what the result was? Go on, guess. Anyway, see you guys in the next chapter.


	17. The Quadwizard Tournament Competitors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The competitors of the "Tri"wizard Tournament get given their first task.

Harry: …CKER! *sees everyone staring at him* Oh, come on. Like we didn’t see this happening the second the cup spat out an extra name.  
Dumbledore: Harry, get your ass up here.  
Harry: I suppose it doesn’t make a difference that I didn’t put my name in the cup?  
Dumbledore: You did now, and that’s all that matters. By the way, you have lovely cursive.  
Harry: I don’t know how to write in cursive.  
Dumbledore: You do now.  
Harry: THAT’S NOT HOW THAT WORKS!  
McGonagall: Look Potter, I believe you didn’t put your name in the Goblet, so just come up here and we’ll get this straightened out.  
Harry: Finally, a rational adult *joins them onstage before heading through the side door*

*in the side room, Cedric, Fleur, and Viktor sitting around a fire*  
Cedric: Oh, hey Harry, what are you doing here? Did they give the job of telling us the first challenge to our resident celebrity?  
Viktor: Obviously not, otherwise I’d already know it.  
Fleur: You’re one of ze champions you idiot.  
Viktor: NO EXCUSES!  
Harry: As for why I’m here…  
Bagman: *running downstairs and making a spectacle of his entrance* Can we believe we have FOUR champions?  
Harry: …yeah, that.  
Cedric, Fleur, and Viktor: …what?  
McGonagall: Okay Ludo, we both know that’s not official yet.  
Bagman: But…but his name came out of the…  
McGonagall: Oh, come on, we both know there’s something nefarious going on here.  
Bagman: …you don’t know that.  
Harry: It’s me. When has something nefarious NOT happened to me?  
Dumbledore: So, now that the four champions are gathered…  
McGonagall: ALBUS! I already said that we’d…  
Dumbledore: Look, I’m glad you lied to him to get him to come up onstage, but…  
McGonagall: I didn’t lie. I want to work out why the hell Potter’s name came out of the Goblet when he obviously didn’t put his name in there.  
Moody: Obviously a powerful wizard, maybe a follower of Voldemort *distant thunder crack*, jinxed the Goblet, and entered Harry under a fourth school so he’d definitely be picked in hopes that he, as an inexperienced wizard, would be killed.  
McGonagall: Hmm…strangely specific, isn’t it Moody?  
Moody: Well, my job at the Ministry was to think like a Dark Wizard so I could catch them, right?  
McGonagall: I suppose it was.  
Harry: And therefore I don’t have to compete because I obviously didn’t put my name in the Goblet.  
Dumbledore: Like hell you won’t, you’re competing.  
Harry: What the fuck? You just heard that someone’s trying to kill me.  
Crouch: There’s no pressure for Potter to compete. We decided against putting a binding contract spell on the competing contestants, just in case something like this happened.  
Dumbledore: Don’t care, he’s in.  
Karkaroff: Well that’s bullshit. If we knew we’d be allowed two champions, I’d have allowed one of my other worthless drones to compete so Viktor would have some backup.  
Maxime: I am sure that Fleur wouldn’t mind a zecond Beauxbatons student competing either.  
Dumbledore: My school, my rules. Potter competes.

Harry: I suppose I could just turn up at all the events and forfeit when they start…  
Dumbledore: And risk expulsion? I don’t think so.  
Harry: Wait, WHAT?!  
Dumbledore: Oh yes, didn’t you know? Not showing enough school spirit is against the school rules.  
McGonagall: Sir, that’s not a rule.  
Dumbledore: It is now, because it’s my school, and I do as I damn well please.  
Harry: You are literally the worst person ever. Then again, I shouldn’t expect any better from a guy who hired the president of NAMBLA.  
Dumbledore: Harry, you know that’s not true. Professor McFondles is only the vice president. Bagman, the rules.  
Ludo: Absolutely sir *pulls out a piece of parchment* We want to test your daring, so we ain’t telling you shit. This will take place on November the 24th, and you will be watched by all the other students, who will be judging you as harshly as possible. And all you get is your wands.  
McGonagall: Don’t worry Potter, I’ll help you prepare for…  
Dumbledore: Don’t even think about it Minerva. Potter put his name in…  
Everyone else except Bagman: NO HE/I DIDN’T!  
Dumbledore: …so he has to deal with the consequences. Dumbledore out *apparates out of there*  
Harry: Who the hell put him in charge of children?  
Crouch: The Ministry thought it was a good idea at the time.  
Harry: So did the people who elected Drumpf as a joke.  
McGonagall: Okay, I suggest we all go to bed, and try and process what happened today.  
Harry: And maybe figure out how to get me out of the tournament.  
Bagman: Nope, you’re in. Congratulations *leaves*  
Harry: Fuck everything.

*heading back to the dormitories*  
Cedric: Be honest Harry: did you figure out how to put your name in the Goblet?  
Harry: Of course not. Why the hell would I?  
Cedric: Don’t worry, I’ll always believe you about that. You’ve had enough people try and kill you so far, I figure you’re not trying to do something else to put yourself in danger.  
Harry: Thank God you’re actually a reasonable person. Hopefully nothing bad happens to you in this tournament.  
Cedric: Uhh…thanks? Well, I gotta go to my dorm *starts heading towards the basement*  
Harry: Really? They put Hufflepuff in the basement? You guys really do suck.  
Cedric: Hey, at least it doesn’t leak as much as it used to *leaves*

*back at Gryffindor tower*  
Fat Lady: Ahh, Harry. Congratulations on…  
Harry: Balderdash.  
Fat Lady: Hey, I’m just happy someone from Gryffindor got…  
Harry: Listen, I didn’t want this. I’m pretty sure the person who wanted this wants to kill me. Therefore, just let me in so I can go to bed.  
Fat Lady: *sighs* Fine, but I wouldn’t be expecting to go to bed if I was you *opens up*  
Harry: *entering the hole* Why would you say…  
Fred: There he is!  
George: Alright people, make a line. Remember, one sickle for an autograph, five to shake his hand, and fifteen to actually speak to him.  
Harry: When the hell did you have time to set this up?  
Fred: When there’s money involved, we find the time.  
Harry: …I’m going to bed.  
George: Ooh, excellent. Everyone that wants to…  
Harry: STOP PIMPING ME OUT!

*in the dormitory*  
Ron: Hey.  
Harry: Oh, you’re here.  
Ron: Yeah, and wondering why you didn’t tell your best friend how you put your name into the Goblet.  
Harry: Ron, we both know I didn’t. I am quite possibly in extreme mortal peril.  
Ron: How’d you do it?  
Harry: You know what? Can’t deal with this shit right now. SECURITY! Someone’s trying to get in my bed without paying!  
Fred: *kicking the door down, wand drawn* HANDS IN THE AIR MOTHERFUCKING!  
George: *handcuffing Ron* Trying to rob us hardworking people of their money? Despicable.  
Harry: I still didn’t agree to any of this, but whatever *goes to bed*


	18. The Balancing of the Batons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can we just get to the first challenge already?

Harry: *waking up* Jeez, that was a weird day yesterday.  
Colin: What was so weird about it?  
Harry: Why the fuck are you in my bed?  
Colin: I paid Fred and George two galleons to…  
Harry: Son of a bitch.  
Colin: So, can I finish what I was…  
Harry: Make them give you a refund *shoves Colin out of bed*

*in the Common Room*  
Hermione: Harry, how’d you sleep?  
Harry: With half the house apparently. You don’t believe I entered the tournament, do you?  
Hermione: Of course not. Someone obviously tampered with the machine so that it would spit out four names instead of three.  
Harry: I mean, it’s a magical artefact and not a machine, but at least you believe me. Even Ron hates me.  
Hermione: He’s jealous that you’re being pushed into the spotlight again, while he’s still the sidekick.  
Harry: Well then he can get himself a series of kid’s books named after him if he wants to be a main protagonist. Unfortunately, I’m cursed with this shit for a few more years.  
Hermione: Anyway, you should probably tell Sirius that you’re competing in the tournament.  
Harry: I should. Quick question: what will that accomplish?  
Hermione: He’s your only good family. He deserves to know.  
Harry: No, I get that. But…he’s a fugitive. He came back to England because my scar hurt. If I tell him about this, he’s probably going to kick the door to the Main Hall down to see me.  
Hermione: Do you really think he’d be that reckless? *Harry stares at her* Good point, but you should still tell him.  
*in the school owlery*  
Hedwig: *thoughts* Ah, master, you want me to deliver a…  
Harry: Sorry girl, but people tend to get suspicious when they see a non-native owl flying around. Why they even sell non-native owls in England when they’re trying to keep our society secret is beyond me, but still…  
Hedwig: *pecks Harry* *thoughts* Screw you too.  
Harry: Oh great, you’re against me too? This is just fucking terrific.

*in the Great Hall*  
Fred: *as Harry enters* There’s our champion *entire Gryffindor table cheers, while the others are significantly less impressed*  
Harry: Still don’t believe me that I didn’t enter?  
George: Why would we do that?  
Harry: I’m an apathetic, sarcastic asshole who hates everything and wants nothing to do with danger. Seriously, surviving a killing curse to the face before I could even talk was enough thanks.  
Fred: But now you can get money for being in danger.  
Harry: I have money. Lots of it. I could buy the country of Peru if I wanted.  
George: You can get famous.  
Harry: You’re seriously trying to use that argument on me?  
Fred: Killing Dark Lords is so last decade.  
George: You need something fresh, something exciting.  
Harry: That’s not how that works.

*in Herbology the next day*  
Justin: Hey look Ernie, it’s the spotlight stealer.  
Ernie: Don’t look at him, he might try and make himself more famous off you.  
Harry: That doesn’t make any fucking sense. How and why would I even do that?  
Ernie: No-one knows how you did it, we just know you did it.  
Justin: And we know you did it so that Hufflepuff couldn’t have the spotlight.  
Harry: …Okay, I admit, that’s a good motivation. Not that I…  
Ernie: SEE?! HE ADMITTED IT!  
Sprout: Settle down students, we can gang up on the spotlight stealer later.  
Harry: Great, even the teachers are against me now. Other than Snape.  
Hermione: We haven’t even seen his reaction yet.  
Harry: What do you think it will be?  
Hermione: …good point.  
Ron: Hermione, who are you talking to?  
Harry: Oh good, we’re doing this now too.

*Care of Magical Creatures*  
Draco: Potter…  
Harry: Okay, just get whatever snide remarks you want to say out of the way so I can retort with something that makes you go crying to daddy.  
Draco: How dare you! I’m gonna… *realises what he’s about to say and composes himself* Actually, I was wondering if I could buy some of Granger’s badges for that thing no-one cares about.  
Harry: *eyes narrowing* I’m gonna hate whatever you’re planning, aren’t I?  
Draco: *mock offended* Why Harry, I’ve never been so hurt in all my life.  
Hermione: Yeah Harry, he obviously wants to join this worthy cause. How many would you like?  
Draco: How many have you got?  
Harry: Hermione, you do know he used to have a house elf, right?  
Hermione: And now he’s seen the error of his family’s ways and wants to make up for it.  
Harry: Whatever. I just want you to know that whatever happens is ENTIRELY your fault.

*a few days later in Potions*  
Draco: Check it out Potter *shows him badge saying Support Cedric Diggory -- The Real Hogwarts Champion*  
Harry: Like I said Hermione, entirely your fault. Though honestly, I was expecting far worse.  
Draco: And that’s not all it can do. Watch this *changes badge to say Potter Stinks*  
Harry: There it is *pulls out wand* Time for a little trick I learned from Tom Riddle *changes it to say Kitten Sports*  
Draco: How dare you *changes back to Cedric side*  
Harry: Let me just fix that up for you *changes it to say Cruddy Piggies Proctor – Holographes Chairmen Twat*  
Draco: *glaring at him* PROFESSOR! Potter ruined my thing.  
Snape: That’s detention Potter.  
Harry: Of course it is.  
Snape: And also for Weasley.  
Ron: But why?  
Snape: Because fuck you, that’s why.  
McFondles: HEY! No fucking the children. That’s my job.  
Snape: Get the fuck out of my dungeon.  
Colin: Mr. Snape, I’ve been sent by Mr. Crouch to get Harry for a photoshoot.  
Snape: I’m taking fifty point from Gryffindor for calling me Mr. instead of Professor.  
Harry: But what you’re saying is: I don’t have to sit through this class?  
Snape: *sigh* I suppose not. I guess I can poison you some other time.  
Harry: Why the hell did Dumbledore hire y… *realises what he was saying* Oh, wait.

*upstairs*  
Colin: I can’t believe that I get to escort the great Harry Potter to his photoshoot for the Triwizard Tournament…  
Harry: Hey Colin, are you particularly relevant for the rest of the series?  
Colin: Well, no, not particularly, but…  
Harry: Excellent *pushes Colin over the railing of the steps, then sees everyone else at the photoshoot watching him do that* Did I just get myself disqualified?  
Bagman: Of course not. We didn’t even hire him to do that, he just appeared out of nowhere and said he’d go get you. Seriously, I was going to go get you myself.  
Harry: Damn it. So, can we just get this over with so I can continue trying to explain that I didn’t put my name in the Goblet?  
Rita: Oh, Harry darling, there’s no need to be so bashful. We all support you.  
Harry: Who the fuck are you, and why do my instincts tell me to hate you?  
Rita: Rita Skeeter, world’s sexiest and best journalist.  
Cedric: Don’t you write gossip pieces?  
Rita: That’s because there’s nothing more important in journalism than gossip.  
Harry: I would have thought being fair and unbiased would have counted more than whether Taylor Swift is dating someone new, but…  
Rita: She’s dating someone new? You must tell me everything *grabs Harry and drags him to a broom closet* Okay, let me just check my Quick-Quotes Quill. Ahem, Rita Skeeter, aged twenty two, super genius, extremely beautiful, and master reporter *her quill writes down everything she said, and continues writing the whole time*  
Harry: Pretty sure you’re at least twice as old as that.  
Rita: *glaring at him* So, first question is: who is Taylor Swift?  
Harry: You’re the one who dragged me in here as though you knew who she was.  
Rita: Look, I want to get the story on the Internet before anyone else does, I’ll figure out the details later.  
Harry: Is the Internet even a thing in 1994?  
Rita: Is Taylor Swift?  
Dumbledore: *opening closet door* HEY! I’m supposed to be the only one in the closet.  
Harry: Say WHAT?!  
Rita: *Quick-Quotes Quill at the ready and leaning forward in anticipation* Care to elaborate?  
Dumbledore: By the way, they want Harry back for the photoshoot, and for an old guy to play with his wand.  
Harry: For the love of God rephrase that.  
Ollivander: Don’t worry Harry, I’m just going to look at your wand and make sure it’s developing correctly for a growing boy.  
Harry: God damn it stop wording things like that.

Ollivander: Okay, first up is Miss Delacour. I dare say you’ve handled plenty of wands before.  
Fleur: Actually, this is ze only one I’ve had *hands him her wand*  
Ollivander: *taking her wand* Understandable. Play around with the wrong wand at the wrong time and suddenly you can end up with all sorts of nasty things in unfortunate places. Now, let’s see…huh, Veela hair. Wasn’t expecting that.  
Fleur: It waz my grandmother’z hair.  
Harry: You’re part Veela? That explains why Ron was temporarily not interested in me.  
Ginny: *watching from under Harry’s Invisibility cloak in a darken corner of the room* So that’s it. Okay, time to make sure she stays close to us.  
Ollivander: *making a bouquet of flowers come out the end of the wand* Oh, well sometimes they go off like that, especially in the presence of beautiful young women.  
Harry: This is gonna be the rest of the chapter, isn’t it?  
Ollivander: Alright, Mr. Diggory, let’s see yours *sees Diggory’s wand* Oh my, you polish this often, don’t you?  
Cedric: Every day sir. Sometimes twice.  
Ollivander: Well, be careful with that. You don’t want to accidentally make a mess.  
Cedric: Don’t worry, I cover it with an old sock just in case.  
Harry: Do you guys even hear yourselves?  
Ollivander: Okay, Mr. Krum, whip it out please *sees Krum’s wand* Hmm…not quite as long as Mr. Diggory’s, but certainly more girthy. Though I suppose living somewhere so cold is bound to cause some shrinkage.  
Viktor: When handling a wand, I want the wood to fill my hand, so as to make sure I have a tight grip.  
Harry: Jesus Christ…  
Ollivander: And finally, Harry. Though I expect as the youngest you probably haven’t worn yours out as much as the older ones.  
Harry: Just stop talking *hands him his wand*  
Ollivander: Ah, the spitting image of youth and beauty, unblemished and innocent.  
Harry: *taking his wand back* Okay, this has gone on long enough.  
Rita: Picture time.  
Harry: Do I have to?  
Rita: Come on Harry, you wouldn’t deny a young…  
Harry: Middle-aged.  
Rita: …woman her request, would you? *realises what he said, and glares at him* Come on, shirts off, let’s see those abs.  
Dumbledore: Okay, one moment *begins taking off his robe*  
Rita: NO! You stay clothed. VERY clothed.  
Dumbledore: Then when am I supposed to have naked time?  
Harry: There it is, we finally referenced Potter Puppet Pals. Okay, I’m outta here.  
Rita: GET BACK HERE! Damn it, little boy. I’ll get a picture of you somehow.

*back in the dormitory*  
Harry: What else is even in this chapter?  
Ron: We’re doing our detentions tomorrow night in Snape’s dungeon.  
Harry: …is that it?  
Ron: Oh, and you got a letter *hands him a clearly opened letter*  
Harry: I thought tampering with the mail was a banishable offence *reads letter*  
Letter: Harry, be alone in the Common Room on the 22nd of November at 1AM so we can talk – Sirius.  
Harry: Yeah, because charging straight into the castle last time was such a good idea.


	19. Budapestian Beakwagger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're nearly at the first challenge, and it only took half the freaking book.

Harry: So, how do we make sure I’m the only person in the Common Room on the 22nd?  
Hermione: Harry, it’s at 1AM. Any normal person will already be in bed.  
Harry: Right. But if they’re not?  
Hermione: I dunno, dung bombs?  
Harry: Okay, you are pretty much the last person I expected to say that.  
Hermione: Well, let’s hear your brilliant idea.  
Harry: …damn it.  
Neville: Hey guys, are you talking about what I think you’re talking about?  
Harry: No Neville, we definitely weren’t talking about sneaking an escaped fugitive who is actually an innocent man into the castle.  
Neville: …that’s not what I was referring to at all *hands them a copy of Witch Weekly, open on an article about Harry and the Triwizard Tournament*  
Harry: *reading through it quickly* Well this is bullshit.  
Neville: Yeah, I was getting a little suspicious when she said you cry yourself to sleep about your parents, even though we’ve slept in the same room for three years and I’ve heard nothing. I just thought the rest might be true.  
Harry: Why would you think that?  
Neville: …I mean, it’s a celebrity gossip magazine. Why would someone lie in…  
Harry: I’m going to stop you right there. I’m going to ask you to rethink every word you just said, and tell me why you would think that.  
Neville: Are you saying that gossip magazines are fake journalism?  
Harry: Neville, these magazines claim someone’s pregnant with photos where their shirt is folded in a way to make them look slightly fatter. Including for men. Anyone who gives much credit to them is a Grade A idiot.  
Draco: Cry yourself to sleep lately Potter?  
Harry: Wow, did NOT think you would willingly want to fall into the same category as Neville.  
Draco: Oh, I don’t believe a word of it. I just want stuff to mock you about. Now tell me, is it true you and Granger are an item?  
Harry: That is…  
Hermione: *quickly covering Harry’s mouth* …absolutely true. He’s getting laid and you’re not. Let that sink in.  
Draco: I… *tries to think of a comeback for that*  
Harry: Why would you say that?  
Hermione: Because Malfoy’s reaction is hilarious to me. Plus, it’s what J. K. Rowling always wanted.  
Harry: But is what she says REALLY canon? Besides, I’m more concerned about that *points at Ron, who heard what she just said*

Ron: You’re with her now? Does our time together mean nothing to you?  
Harry: No it doesn’t. Whatcha gonna do about it?  
Ron: FUCK YOU HARRY! *runs away crying*  
Harry: I think he means literally, but I can’t be sure. Anyway, why does it say we’re a couple?  
Hermione: It says one of your close friends said it was true.  
Harry: But you only said it about ninety seconds ago.  
Colin: Hi Harry. Did you like what I said in the article?  
Harry: Why are you alive?  
Hermione: Thank you for your description Colin, but next time could you ask before you talk about me and Harry’s relationship?  
Harry: Why are you playing along with this?  
Hermione: Because having a celebrity boyfriend will hopefully bring S.P.E.W. membership up. So far I’ve only managed to bully Neville into joining.  
Harry: Yeah, he’s kind of a low-hanging fruit though. Besides, you still haven’t even talked to the house elves about what they want, so your cause means nothing.  
Hermione: Harry, I get the feeling you’re not committed to this worthy…  
Harry: I’m gonna stop you right there. I’m not.  
Hermione: Come on Harry, make up with Ron. I can’t afford to have members of S.P.E.W. fighting amongst themselves at this crucial formation stage.  
Harry: If it gets me out of a group I don’t want to be part of, then I don’t care.  
Hermione: Ugh, you’re impossible *storms off*  
Ginny: *watching from nearby* Hmm, so they’re not as together as that slut’s article suggested.  
A beetle on the wall next to her: HEY! I take offense to…err, I mean…beetle noises?  
Ginny: *grabbing the beetle* Nice try Skeeter, but I knew you were there the whole time.  
Beetle: …uh oh…  
Ginny: Don’t worry, I’m not gonna crush you. Yet. But you are going to work for me in exchange for me not doing that. Doesn’t that sound like a good deal?  
Beetle: Why do I feel like I don’t have a choice in the matter?  
Ginny: There’s a good beetle *leaves*

*next week, right before a Hogsmeade visit*  
Harry: Finally, I get to go to Hogsmeade without sneaking there under the Invisibility Cloak.  
McGonagall: You did WHAT?!  
Harry: You heard nothing.  
Hermione: Okay Harry, we’ll meet Ron at the Three Broomsticks…  
Harry: No.  
Hermione: But…  
Harry: I’m finally rid of him. Do NOT ruin this for me.  
Hermione: But you’re best friends.  
Harry: Nope, not making up with him.  
Hermione: Fine, we’ll just go to the only wizarding village for miles who probably all already know you and that you’re a champion and will inevitably gawk all over you.  
Harry: …you know what? I might just grab the Invisibility Cloak for old time’s sake *leaves to grab it*  
McGonagall: Why do we let him keep that thing?

*in Hogsmeade*  
Hermione: This is ridiculous. People are looking at me thinking I’m talking to myself.  
Harry: Then stop talking loud enough for people to hear you. Clearly that’s the problem, not me making things awkward by being under the Cloak.  
Hermione: Oh for crying out…hey, there’s Ron.  
Harry: Don’t even think about…  
Hermione: RON!  
Harry: God damn it.  
Ron: Oh, Hermione. Where’s your new best friend Harry? Being a traitor?  
Hermione: Ron, that’s not…  
Ron: Meanwhile, I’m hanging out with two people who aren’t going to betray me. They’re my new best friends.  
Dean: We’re not gonna betray you because we don’t have enough page time to have much in the way of meaningful backstories.  
Seamus: Check out my bulge *indicates strangely shaped bulge in his pants*  
Hermione: What did you…  
Dean: He stuck his dick in a Butterbeer bottle.  
Seamus: No regrets. This just means someone has to tug on it until it comes off, and so will I.  
Ron: We’re on our way to Madame Pomfrey. Hopefully this is just the first of many zany adventures.  
Dean: We figure it won’t hurt our chances of becoming relevant characters. Anyway, see you later *leaves with the other two*  
Harry: Can’t believe he thinks hanging out with Seamus is going to bring his status up. The guy only has one gag.  
Hermione: What about Dean?  
Harry: His gag is being black, and we hardly even bring that up, making his running gag even worse. Anyway, now that Ron’s gone, how about that Butterbeer?

*in the Three Broomsticks*  
Hermione: Maybe I should try and recruit adults in the village to my cause.  
Harry: Hermione, if Greta Thunberg can’t convince adults to deal with something that could potentially wipe out humanity, I doubt you’re going to have much luck convincing them to help creatures go against their own nature. By the way, have you spoken to the house elves yet?  
Hermione: …I mean, it’s on my list of things to do…  
Harry: You can’t expect people to follow a cause that impacts a group you haven’t even spoken to about what they want. That should be done somewhere before Step 0 in executing something like this.  
Hermione: But how else will they know it’s a problem? That why people get Christmas banned in schools with a few Muslim or Jewish students. It’s going to offend them anyway, so they might as well pre-empt it.  
Harry: How the hell are you one of the smartest students at this school?  
Moody: Hello Mr. Potter.  
Harry: Oh, hi Professor Moo…wait, I’m under the Invisibility Cloak, right?  
Moody: Special eye, Potter. I can see _everything_ *as he said everything, his eye rolled to the back of his head and back to the front*  
Harry: Of course you had to make that creepy.  
Moody: I was just telling my good friend Hagrid here about your first challenge.  
Hermione: You two are friends?  
Hagrid: We are noo, since ‘e told me what the firs’ challenge is. Oh, it’s gonna be a good un’.  
Harry: Great, what is it?  
Hagrid: I can’ tell ya tha’ *yawns loudly, and slams his hand down on the table, and very obviously leaves a piece of paper there* Well, see yah tonight ‘arry *leaves with Moody*  
Harry: He realises that most of the pub just saw him do that, right? *reads note* Meet me tonight at my hut, around midnight. And bring the cloak. Don’t want anyone figuring out what we’re up to.  
Hermione: At least he was subtle about giving you the note.  
Harry: We have VERY different definitions of subtle. But now I have to meet Hagrid AND Sirius in the same night.  
Hermione: Oh, dear, you get to meet with two father figures in one night who want to help you with the thing that’s going to kill you.  
Harry: You really are no help today, are you?

*that night*  
Ron: Where are you going?  
Harry: *putting on Invisibility Cloak* Oh, you suddenly care, do you?  
Ron: Pfft, no. I’ll be the main character with my new best friends any day now, you’ll see.  
Seamus: Guys, I got my dick stuck on the fireplace.  
Dean: Dude, the fucking fire’s still lit.  
Seamus: But there were two logs stacked to look vaguely like a butt.  
Dean: Fucking white people.  
Ron: See, we’re already on another zany adventure. I’ll see you later *leaves with the other two*  
Harry: I mean, it’s just the same zany adventure as before, but whatever *leaves*

*Hagrid’s Hut*  
Harry: Hagrid, are you still here?  
Hagrid: *opening door, pointing a shotgun* I don’t want any.  
Harry: Hagrid, it’s me. Harry.  
Hagrid: ‘arry? But you’re invisible. Oh no, yeh’re not a ghos’, are yeh?  
Harry: Sure, why not? Now hurry up and show me what you wanted to show me, I have to go meet a serial killer.  
Hagrid: Is that who killed yeh?  
Harry: Look, whatever advances this plot. For Christ’s sake, there’s thirty seven chapters in this book, we’re in chapter nineteen, and we haven’t even got to the first challenge yet. There are some serious pacing issues here.  
Hagrid: Alrigh’, this way Ghost ‘arry *walks straight over to the Beauxbatons carriage*  
Harry: I swear to God Hagrid, if you turn this into a date…  
Hagrid: Hush Harry *knocks on the door* Oh Madame Maxime?  
Maxime: Ah, Monsieur Hagrid. I take it you’ve already put the winged horses to bed?  
Hagrid: A couple mighta taken a crowbar, but yeh, they’re all asleep.  
Harry: You’ve gotta be kidding me.  
Maxime: What was that?  
Hagrid: Jus’ the grass. The noisy, noisy grass *kicks Harry in the stomach before heading off with Maxime*  
Harry: *wheezing* Asshole *hobbles after them around the side of the castle, until he sees what Hagrid wanted to show him* Oh, you have GOT to be fucking kidding me.  
Hagrid: Beautiful, ain’t it?  
Maxime: Dragons are truly majestic creatures. It gives me such a *makes a weird noise* warm feeling, if you catch my drift.  
Hagrid: Oh, I know EXACTLY what you mean *starts kissing her, and they begin removing items of clothing*  
Harry: And that’s my cue to leave *turns to leave, and crashes into Karkaroff*  
Karkaroff: Don’t mind me invisible person, I’m just here to cheat for my student. The live porn is a nice touch though.  
Harry: What the fuck is wrong with the adults in this series?

*back in the dormitory*  
Harry: So, how is Sirius going to get in here anyway?  
Sirius: *poking his head out of the fireplace* Right here buddy *sniffs air* Does it smell like jizz here?  
Harry: Better not to ask. How are you doing that anyway?  
Sirius: I’ve tied up a muggle family and they’re watching me do this.  
Harry: DUDE?!  
Sirius: I’m kidding, I roofied them.  
Harry: Not an improvement.  
Sirius: But enough about me, how are you doing?  
Harry: Well, I’m being forced to compete in a tournament that’s going to kill me, everyone assumes I did it on purpose including Ron, Rita Skeeter is a thot, and the first challenge has something to do with dragons. So, same old same old.  
Sirius: Harry, don’t give up. You’ve got Dumbledore to prote…  
Harry: He’s the one who forced me to compete despite the obvious set-up.  
Sirius: …you have Moody there, who’s an expert in finding and defeating Dark Wizards. He’ll get to the bottom of it.  
Harry: He seems a little unhinged.  
Sirius: Look, for every fake plot to kill him, he finds ten real ones. It’d drive anyone insane after a while.  
Harry: …okay, that’s fair. Now, the biggest problem is the dragons.  
Sirius: Oh, those are easy. There’s a very simple spell that I’m going to tell you that will make that whole ordeal a breeze. You better listen carefully though, because I don’t want to repeat it. That spell is simply…  
Ron: *from upstairs* Who’s that? *starts coming downstairs*  
Sirius: You didn’t tell Ron you were talking to me?  
Harry: He hates me right now, and will probably get you arrested for all the anthrax you sent him. But about that spell…  
Sirius: Gotta go *disappears*  
Harry: God damn it.  
Ron: What are you still doing up?  
Harry: Trying to figure out how to survive in a death game, no thanks to you. The real question is: why are you naked?  
Ron: It was for our nightly make-up sex sessions until we’re friends again.  
Harry: See? The fact that I didn’t know about them is EXACTLY why we’re not friends.  
Ron: STOP DENYING OUR LOVE! *runs away crying*  
Harry: Fuck my life.


	20. Challenge One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for the first challenge. And it's about freaking time.

Hermione: So, what did you learn last night?  
Harry: Well, the first challenge involves dragons, Cedric’s currently the only champion who doesn’t know about them, Karkaroff was a Death Eater which Kieran forgot to include in the previous chapter, and Ron has the worst timing ever.  
Hermione: You’re facing DRAGONS first?  
Harry: Did you not hear the part about Karkaroff being a Death Eater? As in, the followers of the guy who tried to kill me? And is therefore quite possibly the guy who put my name in the Goblet?  
Hermione: Oh, come on Harry, what are the chances that the guy who’s villainous side is revealed halfway through the book is the actual villain?  
Harry: Well, who else is it gonna be? Moody, the dark wizard hunter? That’s a stupid idea.  
Hermione: Look Harry, whether Karkaroff put your name in the Goblet or not doesn’t matter at this point, since knowing that won’t get you out of the tournament.  
Harry: I would think a confession would maybe help me out a bit, but whatever.  
Hermione: So, let’s focus on the problem at hand: how do you get past the dragon?  
Harry: Well, Sirius was saying there was a simple spell for beating a dragon, but Ron appeared before he could say what it was.  
Hermione: Great, a starting point. If it’s simple, we should be able to find it in the library.  
Harry: You seem to be pretty accepting of the whole dragon thing.  
Hermione: You mean the lizards they superglued wings to, and force-fed gasoline and a lighter? I’ll be campaigning for them once I’m done with the house-elves.  
Harry: I feel like animal cruelty should come before willing volunteers, but whatever.

*in the library*  
Harry: Okay, let’s see what we’ve got here…”Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit”…eww, gross, why is this even here? “Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them” Who would ever be interested in that? “Men Who Loved Dragons Too Much” Jesus Christ, did Charlie write this?  
Hermione: If he did, he might have a lawsuit from Gilderoy Lockhart, since it sounds very similar to his book “Dating the…”  
Harry: I DON’T WANT TO FUCKING KNOW! Let’s see what else we have here…scalping? Nah, World Cup’s over, so it won’t buy the tickets. Pepper breath? Nah, I don’t want Digimon in this fanfic. Horn tongue? Why would anyone want that?  
Hermione: Viktor Krum?  
Harry: Hermione, I don’t think I can convince him to be a meat shield for the task.  
Hermione: No, he’s back *points him out*  
Harry: Oh…do you think his band of sluts are coming?  
Slut 1: Where did he go?  
Slut 2: He went in this weird room.  
Slut 3: What’s a…lib…rar…ee?  
Slut 4: I don’t know, but if it means we get to stare at Krum and giggle and gossip as loud as we want, I don’t care.  
Hermione: …and now I’m torn between leaving to avoid them, and staying and watching Madam Pince skin them alive.

*the next morning*  
Hermione: Okay, was not expecting her to actually skin them, much less transfigure that flesh into a handbag.  
Harry: On the upside, Madam Pomfrey is getting some practice with reattaching skin before I get mine removed tomorrow *sees Cedric walk past* Hmm…Hermione, should I tell him about the dragons, just so all the champions are on even footing?  
Hermione: It would be the morally correct thing to do.  
Harry: You’re right *aims wand* DIFFINDO! *splits Cedric’s bag* That should even things out *runs up to Cedric* Hey buddy, are you okay?  
Cedric: Oh, hey Harry. My new backpack just broke. Really weird, since I even enchanted it with anti-ripping charms.  
Harry: Uh huh, yeah. Anyway, our first challenge is dragons.  
Cedric: …what?  
Harry: Look, don’t ask why I know, but I do, and so do Fleur and Krum, so I’m just evening up the playing field.  
Cedric: Is it cheating to know this information?  
Voice from outside: Charlie, what are you doing to the Chinese Fireball?  
Charlie, also outside: You know I like my dragons a little exotic *as he finished speaking, a dragon is heard roaring*  
Harry: I mean, is there any doubt at this point?  
Moody: That was very noble of you Harry.  
Harry: How much of that did you hear?  
Moody: Only the last few words…  
Harry: Then how did you know…  
Moody: …luckily I learned to lipread with my special eye.  
Harry: …shit.  
Moody: Can I speak to you in my office?  
Harry: Oh, gee, I’d love to, nut I’ve got to get to Herb…  
Moody: I’ll apologise to Professor Sprout for you later *grabs Harry and drags him away*  
Cedric: So, uh, can someone help me with my stuff? I need to get to Charms. *no-one responds* Hello?

*Moody’s office*  
Moody: It was real sneaky of you, destroying Cedric’s bag like that.  
Harry: …I guess…  
Moody: It was a great way to undermine the competition. But then you had to ruin it by telling him about the dragons.  
Harry: Just didn’t want to be seen being too good, you know?  
Moody: Ah, balancing your good and bad karma, eh? I can support that. It keeps Lady Luck from thinking about screwing you over. But laddie, how do you plan on getting past the dragon?  
Harry: I don’t. The dragon’s gonna kill me, and there’s nothing anyone can do to stop it.  
Moody: That’s not what I want to hear. I need you alive.  
Harry: …what?  
Moody: Err…what I mean is, how good would it look if I indirectly helped the great Harry Potter survive the Triwizard Tournament?  
Harry: Considering that teacher interference is strictly prohibited, not good for you.  
Moody: Nonsense, cheating is part of every good competition. Why do you think muggles have performance enhancing drugs?  
Harry: They don’t exactly approve of them.  
Moody: But if I’m vague about the advice I give you, no-one can be any the wiser. So, all you have is your wand. What are you good at?  
Harry: You mean, like, with spells? Well, I start off pretty much all the video games with Flipendo, but I’m not sure how that’s going to…  
Moody: No, no, I mean…  
Harry: Then there’s the Patronus charm, but that’s not going to help either…  
Moody: If you would just let me…  
Harry: Expelliarmus might be useful, but what exactly would I disarm from the dragon? Unless it just takes the thing apart, which might be against the…  
Moody: DAMN IT BOY! What skills do you have outside of spell casting?  
Harry: Well, I’m Seeker for the Quidditch team, despite the fact I wear glasses and I need to find a fast-moving golden ball, often on sunny days where it can blend in very easily.  
Moody: Exactly. That takes some serious talent boy, and that is how you’re going to get through this competition.  
Harry: But all I have is my wand, and I’m not allowed to have that during Quidditch…  
Moody: Then make yourself not just have that. Do you get me?  
Harry: Absolutely.

*later*  
Harry: Hermione, I need you to sneak my Firebolt into the challenge arena tomorrow.  
Hermione: Pretty sure that’s cheating.  
Harry: Yeah, and so’s all the champions knowing what the challenge is. So, are you gonna do it?  
Hermione: You could just learn the Summoning spell Accio.  
Harry: I don’t know, my way sounds a lot easier.  
Hermione: Come on, I’m gonna show you how to make things fly at your head.  
Harry: That sounds incredibly dangerous and stupid.  
Hermione: So does going up against a dragon, now let’s go.

*in an abandoned classroom*  
Hermione: Now remember, just yell Accio and the objects should go to you.  
Harry: A thought occurs: I’m practicing this so I can get my Firebolt for the challenge, even though it’s going to be all the way at the top of Gryffindor Tower. But this practice is just across the length of a classroom. Just getting a broom from the school’s lockup is going to be difficult, let alone something at the highest point of the castle. Hell, why do I even need a broom? I’ve got an Invisibility Cloak which wouldn’t be too hard to sneak out of the school, why don’t I…  
Hermione: Learn to make these things fly to you, or I’ll make them fly to you myself.  
Harry: Right, right, how hard can it be?

*fourteen hours later*  
Harry: Hooray, I got it. And it only took…where’s the sun?  
Hermione: *waking up* What? Did you actually manage it?  
Harry: How long have you been asleep?  
Hermione: What time is it?  
Harry: Err… *checks watch* 2AM?  
Hermione: About four hours then.  
Harry: What’s more concerning is I’M FIGHTING A GOD DAMN DRAGON IN ELEVEN HOURS AND HAVEN’T SLEPT!  
Hermione: Yeah, you should do that *goes back to sleep where she is*

*lunchtime the next day*  
McGonagall: Alright Potter, time for the…are you okay? You look tired.  
Harry: I was up until 2AM trying to make sure I survive this.  
McGonagall: You thought the best way to survive the most dangerous thing you’ve ever faced was to be sleep deprived?  
Harry: It’s not my best decision, I’ll admit.  
McGonagall: Try not to worry too much about it. If you die, I get to tell Professor Dumbledore “I told you so.”  
Harry: Was kind of hoping for a little more than that.  
McGonagall: Like what? You’ll be dead.  
Harry: Yeah, guess you’re right. Hey, if I do die, can you do me a favour?  
McGonagall: Okay, what is it?  
Harry: Use as much of my money as necessary bribe Fudge into clearing Sirius Black’s name.  
McGonagall: Umm, Harry? He’s a mass murderer that wants to kill you in the name of the Dark Lord.  
Harry: He’s also my only family, and somehow still a better parent than the Dursleys. Plus, you’ve already agreed.  
McGonagall: I suppose I did. Can I ask why?  
Harry: Talk to Hermione, she knows.  
McGonagall: Why do I feel like the answer is something that should be more widely known than it is?

*in a tent just outside the arena for the first challenge*  
Cedric: Hey Harry, are you ready for today?  
Harry: As ready as I can be. I had Trelawney saying I was gonna die today all yesterday, so I’m thinking my survival chance is at about 80%.  
Cedric: Yeah, I don’t take much notice of what she says either. She told me I’m going to become a blood sucking vampire someday. I mean, can you imagine?  
Harry: Trust me, a lot of people can.  
Krum: I wonder how long until the boy who lived becomes the boy who’s deep-fried.  
Fleur: You know he can hear you right?  
Krum: Shut up Frenchy. Just have your white flag ready for when you surrender.  
Bagman: *bursting into the tent* Hello, champions. I bet you’re wondering what you’re about to face out there, right?  
Krum: It’s dra…  
Harry: *covering his mouth* …driving us crazy, all the anticipation.  
Cedric: It’s dragons.  
Harry: Damn it man, we’re not supposed to know.  
Cedric: Oops, sorry.  
Bagman: Oh, you saw us leading the dragons to the arena?  
Harry: Err…yes, that is exactly it.  
Cedric: No we… *Harry covers his mouth*  
Bagman: Damn it, I knew we should have brought them over earlier. Oh well, shove your hands into this bag and find out which one you’ll be facing *the four champions reach in and grab their respective dragon models* Excellent. Now, the number around their neck is the order you’ll go in, so that we go from least dangerous to most.  
Harry: *seeing number four around his dragon’s neck* I shouldn’t be surprised. I really shouldn’t.  
Bagman: So Cedric, you’re up first, then Fleur, then Viktor, and finally, Harry.  
Krum: It was nice knowing you Potter.  
Bagman: All you have to do is collect the golden egg that these nesting mothers are guarding.  
Fleur: You make it sound zo easy.  
Bagman: It shouldn’t. Dragons are fiercely protective of their young, and will generally stop at nothing to protect them. Honestly, you guys should be terrified right now.  
Harry: I’ve just accepted death at this point. I know I’ve got three and a half books to go, but it’ll be better if I just get eaten and burned right now. Possibly in the order.  
Bagman: Well, good luck. You’re gonna need it. And some kind of plan *leaves*  
Fleur: Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t ze say they made ze challenges easier this time around?  
Cedric: I believe they did.  
Fleur: Then what ze hell were ze challenges last time if our first one is dragons?

*flashback*  
Announcer: Alright champions, your challenge is to run in a straight line…  
Champion: That doesn’t sound so bad.  
Announcer: While all the staff cast the killing curse in your general direction.  
Champion: Wait what?  
Announcer: Challenge begins now *huge green flash* Ooh…we might be in for a lawsuit or three.

*end flashback*  
Krum: Who cares? No-one is going to stop me from crushing you puny humans.  
Harry: Do you think you’re better than us?  
Krum: Do you think I’m not? *a whistle blows* What was that? *the champions go quiet, and after a couple of minutes, it sounds again* What is that abou…  
Bagman: *looking through the entrance* Damn it Cedric, I told you, you can start at the sound of a whistle.  
Harry: You said no such thing.  
Bagman: Oh…well, you just lost points.  
Harry: For what?  
Bagman: Pointing out judge stupidity. Now hurry up and get out here Cedric *leaves again*  
Cedric: Well, wish me luck.  
Fleur: Be a good warm up act for me.  
Krum: Please die.  
Harry: Better you than me.  
Cedric: …not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t that. Well, seeya *leaves*

*later*  
Harry: Okay, Krum’s out there right now, and from what I can tell none of them have died. I’m up next, and have the most dangerous one to face. Okay, I’m ready, I’m ready, I’m… *hears whistle* About to fucking die. Well, here goes nothing *walks outside, and sees the Hungarian Horntail across the arena. Harry approaches it cautiously, holding out his hands to try and ease it* Okay, nice dragon, nice dragon, just let me grab your golden egg and… *dragon immediately throws a jet of flames at him*  
*in the stands*  
Draco: Yeah, go dragon.  
Fred: TAKING ALL BETS! Will Harry survive?  
Draco: Isn’t Potter your friend?  
George: And what kind of friends would we be if we didn’t try and profit from his suffering?  
Draco: Huh, never thought of it that way. Crabbe, Goyle, pay me to punch you.  
Crabbe: Gah?  
Goyle: Duh *hands over five galleons*  
Draco: Wow, and I was planning to punch you once per knut you paid.  
Goyle: Duh?  
Crabbe: Gah!

*back in the arena*  
Harry: Alright, moment of truth *pulls out his wand* ACCIO FIREBOLT! *nothing happens for a while* Well, shi… *suddenly, his Firebolt comes up behind him, aiming to fly between his legs, but goes a little too high* Why do I feel like I just dropped the soap?  
Bagman: An interesting strategy: Harry is using his summoned broomstick as a dildo. Not sure how that’s supposed to help him against the dragon, but let’s see where he’s going with this.  
Harry: *mounting his broom* Alright, let’s go dragon *takes to the sky* Okay, that should be high enough, now to circle back and… *sees the dragon hasn’t left the nest* Oh, COME ON! *flies back down* In the movie you were far more aggressive. You don’t want the movie to do something better than the book, do you? Especially that movie.  
Bagman: His strategy has changed to taunting the dragon. Can’t say it’s a particularly smart move, since it’s a FUCKING DRAGON, but whatever.  
Harry: FLIPENDO! *blasts dragon in the eye with it. Dragon immediately turns its attention to Harry* Yeah, that got your…oh SHIT! *dragon takes off after Harry* FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK… *flies away from the dragon*  
Bagman: The dragon is chasing after Harry now. What going to happ…  
Harry: *flying through commentator’s box* Sorry, coming through, don’t mind me, just running for my life.  
Bagman: What the… *sees dragon flying straight at him* SON OF A FUCK! *dives out of the way just barely in time as the dragon destroys the commentator’s box*  
Harry: Okay, should be far enough away now, time to just turn around and grab the egg *circles back, but flies a little too close to the dragon, getting knocked off his broom in the process* Uh oh *lands in the dragons nest next to the golden egg* Well that’s not so bad *sees dragon flying straight at him* That’s not *grabs egg and starts sprinting away*

Bagman: And Harry has got his egg and passed the first challenge, though for the last minute or so I’ve been wishing he didn’t.  
Charlie: Hey Harry, congratula…  
Harry: *running past* KILL IT KILL IT KILL IT KILL IT KILL IT KILL IT KILL IT KILL IT KILL IT KILL IT…  
Charlie: Hmm…nah, I’ve got a better idea *slips a couple of pills into a bucket of chicken blood* Oh Mr. Hungarian Horntail…  
Harry: *still running* KILL IT KILL IT KILL IT *crashes into Ron*  
Ron: Oh, hi Harry.  
Harry: *noticing who it was for the first time* KILL IT KILL IT KILL IT!  
Ron: Poor guy, he’s still scared from the task.  
Harry: No, I know exactly who you are.  
Ron: Don’t worry, I’ll help you to bed, and the first aid tent.  
Harry: Not in that order, right?  
Ron: …maybe…  
Harry: *heavy sigh* I suppose this means you no longer hate me then?  
Ron: I’ve never hated you. I will always love you Harry.  
Harry: That’s what I was afraid of.  
Dean: *watching this* Well, there goes our shot at being main characters.  
Seamus: Oh well, I guess I’ll go back to what I do best *starts walking towards the dragon pen*  
Dean: Fucking white people.

Harry: Hey look, my score *Madam Maxime shoots a number 8 into the air from her wand* Probably took off points for falling off the broom and hurting myself *Crouch fires a 9 out of his wand* Again, I got hurt, so… *Dumbledore fires a 10 out of his wand* Of course, because he wants his school to win… *Bagman fires out a 4* Asshole *Karkaroff fires a 9 out of his wand* Wow, that’s unexpected from him of all people.  
Karkaroff: I just want to clarify, my score comes purely from the fact that you nearly killed Bagman. I would have given you a 10 if you’d been at Durmstrang, or if you’d succeeded.  
Harry: I guess nearly killing Bagman was pretty funny.  
Hermione: There you guys are. I just had the weirdest meeting with a couple of Durmstrang kids, who for some reason looked about fourteen and had English accents.  
Harry: Is that even canon? Whatever, let’s go *starts leaving when someone jumps out at them*  
Rita: Hey, Harry, do you mind if we have a quick word?  
Harry: I’ll give you two: fuck off *leaves*  
Rita: No, please, you don’t understand, I need your he…  
Ginny: *appearing from the shadows* What are you doing?  
Rita: I’m…uhh…doing as you ask, milady of darkness.  
Ginny: Really? Because to me it looks like you’re failing *Rita whimpers* But I’m feeling a tad benevolent today, so I’ll let you off with a warning. Don’t you DARE fail me again *Rita just nods as Ginny disappears back into the shadows*


End file.
